The Death Of An Angel

Where ever she is, I still miss her. I can't say it enough. She was here, it seems like, just yesterday. It's been three years and I still keep expecting her to walk through that door and say, "Guys, I'm home." The question I have is this: Why did she have to leave? She was young.
She was but seventeen years of age.
Though I told her time and time again, I didn't care and I told her I never had. Even worse, I told her that I hated her.
I never really did...I was but thirteen. Sometimes I wish she was here. Sometimes I hate myself for saying those horrid words and I can't believe they came out of my mouth.
She knows that, right? Wherever she is...I just thought of her as always being there to hear me. She was always going to be here and I could always appologize later. She would understand, I just knew...
But then she ruined it. I love her, and she knows that now. But, now I've got a scar on my soul. It follows me everywhere I go, every second of every day. I call this scar "Guilt".
And this scar is all I feel.
I feel so cruel and so sick. I dream about her. And in those dreams, I appologize. I spill my soul out to her and say "I'm sorry" for everything I've ever said or done to her.
But when these dreams end, I don't want to wake up. I want to stay there, by her side.
I know, I must wake up sooner or later. But I just don't want to... I like my dreams. The problem is, I've become dependent on those dreams I have of my sister. I'm vulnerable, and I drift through each day as if it, itself, were a dream. I'm eager to go to sleep at night.
I just want to say: "Brittaney! Where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are!"
But soon I realize she's not here... I relive the horror of that night I found that she was gone. And this horror replays over and over in my mind. It won't leave me alone those words ring in my ears.
"She's not going to make it."
It pains me to speak of it, but at home I can't talk at all. My parents get upset and refuse to speak to me about anything to do with it. I don't want to talk to my little sister, only because I don't feel that she quite yet understands what it's like to watch all of the other girls my age have an older sister to hang out with, to do their hair, and to help them choose their dresses for prom.
It doesn't seem fair...
But now I know, that where she is, (Wherever that may be), is where she belongs...
I just want to say that I love her and I will never forget her: That is a definate.
She's gone, and I must move on...No matter how much it hurts...
I love you sis, and don't forget that....





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