My name is Amanda,
I am only thirteen years old.
I saw my sister last night—
Outside with her friends,
They were laughing,
Having a good time.
I wanted to join in—
So I did.
They were all smoking
They asked if I wanted one.
What was I supposed to do?
Say no, and look like a complete dork?
No.
I said yes.
My sister was doing it, too;
She didn’t stop me,
So it must have been okay—
After all, she was the angel child of the family.
I took it, and breathed in deep—
Very deep.
At first I coughed, but continued.
It tasted like strawberries.
They’re my favorite, you know.
I finished it off
And went to bed.
When I woke up in the morning
And went to breakfast,
I saw my mom and dad
Just holding each other, crying.
They didn’t see me come in,
They didn’t hear my words.
I found my sister
Cowering in the corner of her room,
Whispering over and over:
“no, not my sister! Why did
You take my little sister?!”
“Ashley, I’m right here!”
No one saw me
I knew, right then,
What happened last night.
We had learned about drugs
In school.
Never would I have thought
To see my sister—oh my, me—
Doing what they did on TV.

Coroner’s report three days hence:
“Cause of death: pure innocence.”