So small. So scared. A little thing, standing in front of my door in mismatched shoes, in such a rush he must've thrown himself out the door. "I'm here to see my sister," he said confidently and surely. Nothing would stop the boy from seeing her, that seemed certain. If only she wasn't dead. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I whispered I could feel my eyes sting with tears. I would have to be the one to explain death to the boy, wouldn't I? I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around the confused like boy standing at my porch. How do I say it. How do I do it. Outright? Your sisters dead. Beating around the bush? She's in a better place, she's with you right now in your heart but not in this world. Keep lying? Sorry, she just went out to go pick up some popsicles! Let me call your mom to come pick you up. "What's wrong? What are you doing? Where's my sister?" He yelled, using his little hands to try and shove me away. "I'm so sorry, she's gone, she's gone, she can't come back. She killed herself my god, I'm so sorry I couldn't save her I'm sorry she's dead" I sobbed I didn't think, I just let words pour from my mouth like water from a broken glass. What could you expect from a grieving 15 year old girl? I treated him in that moment like I'd treated my reflection in the mirror, an afterthought as I craved to release all my pains and thoughts and sorrows. He stared up at me with wide brown eyes, his flesh melding into a look of shock and confusion. "Dead?" His little voice repeated softly as if he were saying a word that didn't exist at all. His eyes were filling with tears pooling down his face and meeting at the tip of his chin. "That's a lie. She's just having sleepovers with you!" He insisted. "Mommy told me! You told me! Everyone said so!" "We're liars! We're fucking liars because we don't want to believe she's dead either. When we look at you, who's eyes truly say, absolutely nothing has changed, for a moment, a small moment we can believe it too. Absolutely nothing his changed. She's alive. She's still breathing just like your eyes are telling us to think" I cried and finally let go of him. Unknowingly, that must've been why I never insisted he was told the truth, why I so desperately didn't want him to know and went along with every little lie. He was the only connection left to her still being alive. I heard after that, he cried and screamed for days. Over and over again until his voice was completely shot.
