My Fault

Since my sister died, I’ve never been myself. Her name was Maple. She passed away when she was fifteen. She was so young. She was too young to die. She died of lung cancer. That was when I was twelve. I’m now officially 17. I don’t really talk anymore.

“Please! Just for me! Just speak to me, Jennifer! Please, just talk!”

I’m always depressed because I’m so lonely. There’s never anything to do. Just do my daily routine.

Get up, have a shower, brush my untamed brunette hair, eat breakfast, drive to school, finish school, drive to work, come home, and go to bed.

I drove home in the rain, gazing out in the darkness. When I got home I quickly went inside. I was greeted home by my grumpy, angry cat. His name is Tonks. He was a pure white, medium hair and short tail Tabby. I quickly fed him and went to my room.

I stripped down and got into the shower. I didn’t pay attention to how hot the water was, I was just disgusted with what my body looks likes. The scars that I carved all over myself were screaming at my face telling me that it was my entire fault. It was my entire fault that my sister died.

I wasn’t quick enough to notice. It started with the slow coughing and gasping for breath. Then came the whimpering in pain, the slouching down when she would usually have a straight curved back. If I didn’t notice before, I noticed then. Soon after just a few weeks, she couldn’t get out of bed. We called for an ambulance saying what happened. She said that they would need to take her in and see a few doctors. We thought it was her back that was wrong but never thought it would be her lungs. After a few hours they took her to the x-ray room. It only took a minute.

Nothing was wrong with her back beside it getting used to her slouching. The doctor’s noticed a lump in her lungs. They had a pretty good idea of what it was but decided not to tell us. I thought I think it was selfish. They said they will need surgery to remove it. That’s how she died. She was too weak. Her body couldn’t handle it. If I just told them to stop whatever they were about to do. Only if I did stop them then none of this would have happened and we would be a happy family again.

I quickly got out of the shower hissing in pain with my burnt, red skin. I wrapped the towel around me and stared motionlessly into the mirror. I spent quite some time just glaring at my body. Some scars even saying, “It’s your fault.”

To be honest, it was entirely my fault, ‘my entire fault… All my fault… Please stop! Don’t tell me… I already know,’ I said in my head. Repeating it over and over in my head till I couldn’t understand the words. It was like some foreign language trying to take over my mind. It was causing me a headache. It was a dreadful headache. The kind of ones that you think there gone but their presence still lingers.

The room was slowly spinning around and around. In seconds I was on the floor my knees on my chest and my hands wrapped around them. Sobbing until my clothes were damp, I rested my chin on my arms. I heard a noise across the room and when I looked up I was so horrified my hairs on the back of my neck stuck up. There was, right in front of me, the ghostly figure of my sister with blood dripping out of her open stomach. I was a dear caught in head lights. Petrified, I ran to the bathroom and locked the doors.

“Let me in Jennifer. It’s me, Maple. Come on Jen, just calm down”, Maple said calmly.

How could I be calm? She’s dead. How can she even be here? Slowly I thought it through that I didn’t notice her standing right in front of me.

“Please just listen to me. I came here because my time here is not yet done. I had some unfinished business to attend to. For instance, I wanted to tell you that my death was peaceful. I did not feel a thing. My soul was long gone before they did anything to me. It was the easiest death and the most painless death. Though I had suffered before, I welcomed death with opened arms.” Maple said.

“But it was my fault you suffered! If I didn’t notice earlier! I could have done something! I was so stupid!” I screamed. I was probably talking to myself but at least I was letting all my emotion out.

“Dear Jen, don’t blame yourself please.” She pleaded. She was begging. Why was she begging?

“Why are you pleading? You know I did didn't do anything to stop you. I was just crying over your dead body!” I grumbled. She still didn't listen to me. She was eager to say that it wasn’t my fault. For once I actually racked my brain and tried to think a reason for her death being my fault. For once in my life, I was stumped. I couldn't think of a reason that her death was my fault. I just couldn't, because there was no reason. I finally realised that her body wasn't strong enough. Her lungs, used to be, screaming for air. Her heart racing, trying to reach her lungs in time, but it wasn't fast enough. All that trouble, all that pain, guilt and sorrow were slowly drifting away.

“Because I know you didn't do it. You just have to trust me. It was not your fault. It was nobody’s fault. It’s simply life. It cannot be stopped.” She said soft and calmly. She had that angelic voice when she talks calmly.

I knew that she was right. But I couldn't face it. But I have too.

It was for the best.