Jessica Love Bunch

Six years ago today I lost the thing that I loved the most. My sister. My only sister. I was nine years old when two women sat me down in the game room lounge of my group home and told me these horrible, horrible lies.

They told me my sister had died in a car accident and I didn't know what to do. So I laid there in one of the workers laps and she held me and told me everything would be okay. But nothing would be okay. It would never be okay again. I will never forget that woman, her name was Tina, and though I'll never see her again I thank her everyday for showing me empathy in that hard, cold, mean, dark home.

She had lost her younger sister, she was murdered and left in the sewers to rot and never be found again, but she was found. And you can visit the park that is in front of the sewer in which she was found. Shay Park. They named that park after her. I visit it out of respect for her and her sister.

The last words I said to my sister were, "Happy mothers day sissy! I love you!" I never spoke to her again.

But do you know what hurts the most? When you call your mother and tell her the news she calls you a liar and hangs up on you. That's what hurts the most. The one person in the entire world that you expect to care, to listen to, to be there on the other end of the line silently crying with you. But I can forgive her for that, it was natural.

I just miss her so much, and now here I am, fifteen, almost sixteen next month and she'll never be at another birthday party. She'll never be there smiling her huge, same as mine, smile. She wont be sitting at the pick-nick cussing because of a yellow jacket stinging her on the leg. There won't be anymore pink Scooby Doo cakes or balloons.

I remember the day after I received the news. I had the option to stay out of school, but I refused. I put on a brave face and I fought back tears every second of everyday. I still wear that brave face and I still fight back those tears. But the one thing that I've learned from this is that even though she's gone, I think she's still watching over me.