I wish I could remember like it was yesterday, all I really remember are flashes, flashes of the most horrible moments of my life.

I’d just finished evening lessons and I had to go back home, it was the same old routine, I’d done this for about three years, pick my little sister and take the A11 bus back home .On the way back we’d meet Brad, he’s this guy from the prep school next to mine that I’ve been dating for a while.

He’s really nice and I enjoy talking with him. we’d get to the crossing and my sister would beg for me to let her cross the road alone because she was 9 now and a big girl and everyday I’d say “absolutely not”

That day was different She does the weird cute eyes thing. I really love those tiny eyes. Brad joins her too. I look at the road and it seems pretty ok, what’s the worst that could happen.

I tell her she can go but to be careful and that it was a one-time thing, mom would kill me if she found out.

She darts across the road and I instantly realize what’s about to happen. I drop my bag and sprint after her, Brad runs after me.

I trip and fall



FLASH



I think I jammed my knee, I can’t get up, I hear the brakes on the truck screech and people around are screaming



FLASH



I think the truck just made impact. I hear the soft screeching of human flesh against the tarmac. She probably got caught under the bumper.

Brad runs toward the truck



FLASH



I see the blood trail her body leaves, I have to get up, I have to help her, she has to be ok, I try to pry myself up on my other leg but i fall again



FLASH



My head hits hard on the road, Brad is back at my side, what is he doing here, why isn’t he helping her. I lose consciousness as the effect of the hit starts to sink.

As I slip into the darkness I realize what had just happened, what I’d just done

I had killed my sister

I wake up on a hospital bed, I must have been out for a few hours. My mother is sitting next to me, her eyes are swollen red, she’s definetely been crying, she holds my hand and says

it’ll be ok. I already know the bad news. my sister was gone, she was gone forever, I’d never see her again



Except she was right there

standing at the foot of the bed, her clothes were ripped and bloodied from the road, and her left side had been completely mangled.

One arm had been completely severed, and her left eye socket was an empty, gaping hole. Her skin was covered in deep cuts and abrasions, and dried blood and grime filled the hollows of her face.

She looked at me with her one remaining eye, her face contorted in pain, and said the words that have echoed in my mind ever since: “You did this to me.”

It’s been 13 years since then, I’m 29 now and my sister still hasn’t left, she’s always there, standing across from me while I eat, taking the same cab rides as me, sitting on the road at the spot where she died each time saying the all too familiar words “you did this to me”.

I wonder why she still bothers with that. I definitely don’t need anyone to remind me.

I blame myself every day. I wish I’d gone instead of her, I wish I didn’t listen to Brad. That all doesn’t matter now does it? none of it matters anymore

I’ve been to a few doctors since the incident and I’ve been diagnosed with a lot of things, PTSD’s at the top of the list, recently, I’ve been seeing this therapist who thinks we can work out my problems and that life can go back to “normal”.

I told her about how my sister keeps me company and she says it would be great if I took meds to help with my “hallucinations” because “getting rid of them is a very important thing for my healing process”.

The thing is, I don’t want to feel better, I dont want to forget, I need to remember every day, every second, what I did to her, how I killed her. I can never forget, I must never forget.

It’s 2:00am in the morning and it’s a little chilly, I’ve been talking to my sister pretty often for the past few days. She’s come up with the perfect plan to make me pay for my actions and today is the day we we’re doing it.

I’ve got my rope and the conveniently placed ceiling fan in my bedroom all ready to go – hanging, how cliche.

Turns out it’s actually one of the more painless ways to die, once you’ve gotten past all the choking.

I tighten the noose around my neck and the hook of the fan while my sister smiles behind me urging me on, I’m glad I can finally make her happy, glad I can finally atone for my sin. I signal to her that I’m ready, she nods and kicks the chair under me

I fall and well… you know the rest