Moving To Sacramento     Moving to Sacramento wasn’t as fascinating as we thought it would be. It was fun, living with our cousins, having parties every other weekend, playing basketball all together , having the best time with our new borns, just getting to spend quality time together as a family. But a month later our favorite aunt and sister was diagnosed with heart cancer. Everyone was devastated. As days past it got worse.      Her name was Angalelei Maea. She had a son, in fact he was an only child, she named him Maunia Maea. Fortunately, she had a twin sister with the same birthday and somewhat looks alike. She was the fourth oldest out of Seven kids, four sisters and three brothers. She graduated high school, loved to play basketball, and was planning on going to college, as soon as she had the expenses. She’d love to braid hair, that was part of her hustle, she’d braid her brothers hair in designs people haven’t seen in the hood yet, which would bring in various of customers. She was not only the best sister but she was a fantastic aunt. She’d do what she could when she could. We loved our auntie, as much as she looked out for others, she had multiple talents, which everyone could see.               Then, several weeks later, moving to Sacramento, she was diagnosed with heart cancer. The process escalated so quickly, which none of us really understood. The doctor stated that she had “Months”  to live, instead, it escalated so quickly, month's went to weeks. Almost a whole month passed, and it seemed to get worse.I felt as sick as if i was lying right next to her with a similar disease.       We all prayed the next day, as praying she stopped breathing. Everyone panicking, screeching to the top of their lungs, our younger ones playing. I remember laying at her feet, screaming into the pillow, wishing she’d say something to me. All the hollering was blanked out , everyone surrounding her , i ran outside swinging in frustration, looking into the sky, hoping god would tell me why he took her away so early.  I felt lost, heartbroken. I felt like there was no reason to live anymore. At the age of seven frustration became my best friend.        About a week or two of planning the funeral, picking a dress and casket, the day came to say our last good bye’s. Her son, Maunia, didn’t quite know what was going on, neither did any of the elder or younger kids, i understood.       As the preacher was saying great things about our aunt, i tried holding in my salty, warm tears but i couldn’t. I fell to my knees, bursting in tears. As i was crying my mother tried picking me up, i refused. A man came wandering down the middle iale blessing each and everyone of us from the outside in. He approached our grandparents and i.