1. 1.

First, it's the alarm that scares you. You always jump a bit and then get so scared a friend has to tell you to get up. You just run outside and try not to form a blob in line. When you realize you can't see your sister in any class, you hope the teachers know where she is. After you realize she's not here, a part of you has just died. It's not a metaphor or idom. Your sister is dying. A part of you wants to scream at everyone, blaming them for forgetting Emma. Another part wants to just isolate yourself from friends, school, social media. Everyone. 

I always hope the day doesn't come again I must face another fire. It's been a week and people still tell me sorry. I tell them to stop, it just reminds me of Emma then they laugh and say it's just grief. 

"Alright, who can bring me up their map of the African Territory?" The social studies teacher just asks a question only I can answer. Emma would answer too. I can just imagine Emma going up there, bringing him a paper filled with all the righty answers. I bring mine up instead and immediately sit back down. 

"Look, it's that girl who lost her sister!" I hear someone whisper. I shoot them a menacing glare and they straighten up. Nobody disgraces Emma.

I walk home myself, getting home before Olivia, my aunt. My parents are in Europe. Over there they've been visiting cities and countries. I had to go to Europe just because my sister's funeral had to be there. My parents had to stay at Europe. I haven't seen them since I was 9. That's been 2 years. I've only seen them in screen. Meeting them was happy too, but still sad to know the only reason I was meeting them is because my sister had to die.

I look at the door in the quiet hallway upstairs. I put my backpack up in my room and go to open the door. Inside I see all the trophies my sister got. All the pillows and books. I go to sit on her bed and see her diary. I open it up and see all the pages full of old doodles and things that she just randomly wrote. I laugh seeing them. She looked so young in the photos as had put in her diary. I decided to read some of her entries. I started with 5th grade.


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