This is not me. I was not the one
who destroyed my bedroom, searching for a reason, any
reason to remain here. I could find none. My hands did not
strip me of my clothes, and I did not move the chair to the
center of the room. I did not pull myself onto the chair.
My hands did not place the rope around me neck. My eyes did
not cry. My feet did not jump.
It was my sister who found me.
She was six. She didn't understand what was happening.
She thought I was just playing. Her little hands pushed on
my legs, I swung back and forth. "Wake up Katherine,
wake up." She said, giggling. I could do nothing. Her
voice got more frantic. "Katherine, stop
messing!" I still could do nothing. "Please
Katherine! Wake up!" She was crying now. "Stop
messing! Please wake up!" I just hung there, doing
nothing, I could do nothing. My eyes were opened, staring
at Sarah. She stood up the chair I had kicked out from
under me and stood on it, so she could attempt to look me
more directly in the eyes. "Katherine, please wake
up." Her eyes were glistening. One sad, lonely tear
leaked out of her eye, and her voice was not loud and
begging now, but instead, quiet and pleading. She looked at
her older sister, and Sarah, a six year old girl understood
death.
Part 1
Should I continue?
Comment/Fav/Follow
*nmf