I lie in bed in fetal position with black mascara tears slowly flowing down my face staining my cheeks with grayish lines. She was only 17, a year younger than me. She didn’t have to go. Downstairs, everyone is sitting around eating casseroles and Paninis acting like everything is going to be okay but I know better than to believe their fake faces. My black dress was stained with grass and dirt from when I has kneeled on the ground and cried my eyes out in front of everyone. It wasn’t even embarrassing. I just cried and cried and cried until my mom pulled me away and made me sit down while the priest said something over her lifeless body. We’re not even religious. I was wearing the red pumps that my sister had gotten me for my birthday, and in her casket she was wearing her favorite yellow pumps, the ones I had bought her. I would never be able to give her another gift and I would never receive one from her. I still had my shoes on as I walked to the mirror and stared at myself. Puffy red eyes, the green from my eyes completely replaced with grief and sorrow from losing my one and only baby sister. My usually shiny, long brown hair seemed dull and boring, and my voluptuous figure that I took pride in caring for didn’t seem to matter, nothing mattered anymore. Who cared what I looked like? I know I didn’t. I slowly walked down stairs and felt the stares of everyone. I looked around but saw empty faces, people who thought they understood what I was going through. I grabbed my coat and keys and drove to the nearest drug store and bought a bottle of black hair dye. The bathroom as dingy and gross but I stood there at the sink and applied the dye to my hair. I watched my tears fall and hit the off white sink and I watched as the dye dripped everywhere coloring everything black. Slowly, I bent down and let the cool water wash away the globs of pigment that would stain my hair. Slowly, I walked back to my car and drove home in silence. The entire house gasped as I walked in, my perfect beach, brown waves were replaced with jet black hair just as a black hole was ripped through my heart. Losing Grace was the worst thing that ever happened to me, she was my best friend, my sister, and my rock. Every day, I yearn for her and everyday I have to live knowing that she is gone forever. Maybe one day I can see her again but for now, I have to go on.
May 30, 2010