Never Tear Us Apart
The Day The World Seemed To Stop
*Anna’s P.O.V*
So there are probably a few important things you should know about me…
My father who is named David is one of the only people I can look up to, to be able to believe that they’ll always be there for me, to go to for support and all that crap. My Dad and I are EXTREMELY close, I’m a real daddy’s girl, always have been, always will be. He and I used to muck around a lot when I was growing up, we still muck around now, its great, its one of the many reasons why I love him so much. He was always there for me when I needed him, and he trusts me with his life.
My mother, Linda Worthington, I’m not so close with. I love her with all my heart, and I’m sure she loves me, but we’re two completely different people. We clash, violently. We’re not the best of friends, which kinda hurts me, I’d love to be closer to my Mum, but I guess it’s just not meant to be. I can never talk to her, which made me draw even closer to my Dad. But even though we don’t get along, I still appreciate and love everything she done and does for me.
I have a brother who is eight years younger than me. So he is sixteen. Jack his name is, we’re kind of close, but not as close as I’d like. We have our brother/sister moments.
I had an elder sister too, but a couple of years ago developed a serious case of depression, which lead to a drug and alcohol problem. She attempted suicide and succeeded, overdosing on anti depressants with too much alcohol and bleed to death.
The death of my sister really hit me hard. We were so close before she fell apart. We’d do everything together. She was my rock, the person I would go to when I needed guidance and advise. She kept me together for all of these years, which is a pretty big job. I was there for her when she cried, and she was there for every step of my life. I knew about her problems, she made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. I kept that promise, which I sorely regret.
I was the last person to see her alive, and the first to see her dead. The memory of that day will stay with me till the day of my death. Burned into my brain for all of eternity. I remember her promising me she was okay, that everything was going to be fine, that she was going to beat all of that bad stuff and move on. She swore to me that she would never try to hurt herself again. Seeing she had tried once before, but I was there to stop it. But this time I failed. That’s what broke me the most, her looking me in the eye and telling me all of these lies. I actually believed her as well.
When I saw her lifeless, pale, dead body curled up on the bathroom floor, I remember the feeling of the whole world stopping in time. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes, trying to convince myself that it wasn’t real. But after five minutes of standing still in a cold, bathroom doorway, it came to me that it was real, and my sister was gone forever.
The feeling of her cold skin under my fingertips was probably the worst feeling I will ever feel. I remember calling Gerard in a hysterical crying fit. I didn’t see the point of calling an ambulance, she was already gone. He came right away, comforting me and helping me calm down. He soon then called an ambulance, seeing we had to do something with her, we didn’t really want my dead sister lying around.
The funeral was a week later, that was one of those days were I just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out. Gerard had to physically carry me out of the house, I felt sorry for him. Having to deal with a twenty-one year old woman acting like a child.
But it was the sympathy that I received that made it even worse. I didn’t want to hear about how sorry they were that I had lost a family member. I didn’t want to hear about how tragic it was for her to go like that. Come to think of it, I didn’t really care about anything that day, as for months. Poor Gerard had to deal with me; he’s truly an amazing man. He’s put up with so much in his life.
She was such a beautiful person, long, brown, curly hair, big beautiful brown hazel eyes. A big, bubbly personality made her seem even more beautiful than possible. Jessica, such a pretty name, it really suited her well.
I’ve never really gotten over Jessica’s death, I don’t think I ever will. But even though she’s not with me physically, I know she’s with me in spirit, to carry me on through every day. Just like it used to be…
________________________________________________
REALLY sorry about the crappy chapters.
But I promise the real story's going to start soon. PROMISE!
Comment and tell me what you think. I need opinions...
So there are probably a few important things you should know about me…
My father who is named David is one of the only people I can look up to, to be able to believe that they’ll always be there for me, to go to for support and all that crap. My Dad and I are EXTREMELY close, I’m a real daddy’s girl, always have been, always will be. He and I used to muck around a lot when I was growing up, we still muck around now, its great, its one of the many reasons why I love him so much. He was always there for me when I needed him, and he trusts me with his life.
My mother, Linda Worthington, I’m not so close with. I love her with all my heart, and I’m sure she loves me, but we’re two completely different people. We clash, violently. We’re not the best of friends, which kinda hurts me, I’d love to be closer to my Mum, but I guess it’s just not meant to be. I can never talk to her, which made me draw even closer to my Dad. But even though we don’t get along, I still appreciate and love everything she done and does for me.
I have a brother who is eight years younger than me. So he is sixteen. Jack his name is, we’re kind of close, but not as close as I’d like. We have our brother/sister moments.
I had an elder sister too, but a couple of years ago developed a serious case of depression, which lead to a drug and alcohol problem. She attempted suicide and succeeded, overdosing on anti depressants with too much alcohol and bleed to death.
The death of my sister really hit me hard. We were so close before she fell apart. We’d do everything together. She was my rock, the person I would go to when I needed guidance and advise. She kept me together for all of these years, which is a pretty big job. I was there for her when she cried, and she was there for every step of my life. I knew about her problems, she made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. I kept that promise, which I sorely regret.
I was the last person to see her alive, and the first to see her dead. The memory of that day will stay with me till the day of my death. Burned into my brain for all of eternity. I remember her promising me she was okay, that everything was going to be fine, that she was going to beat all of that bad stuff and move on. She swore to me that she would never try to hurt herself again. Seeing she had tried once before, but I was there to stop it. But this time I failed. That’s what broke me the most, her looking me in the eye and telling me all of these lies. I actually believed her as well.
When I saw her lifeless, pale, dead body curled up on the bathroom floor, I remember the feeling of the whole world stopping in time. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes, trying to convince myself that it wasn’t real. But after five minutes of standing still in a cold, bathroom doorway, it came to me that it was real, and my sister was gone forever.
The feeling of her cold skin under my fingertips was probably the worst feeling I will ever feel. I remember calling Gerard in a hysterical crying fit. I didn’t see the point of calling an ambulance, she was already gone. He came right away, comforting me and helping me calm down. He soon then called an ambulance, seeing we had to do something with her, we didn’t really want my dead sister lying around.
The funeral was a week later, that was one of those days were I just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out. Gerard had to physically carry me out of the house, I felt sorry for him. Having to deal with a twenty-one year old woman acting like a child.
But it was the sympathy that I received that made it even worse. I didn’t want to hear about how sorry they were that I had lost a family member. I didn’t want to hear about how tragic it was for her to go like that. Come to think of it, I didn’t really care about anything that day, as for months. Poor Gerard had to deal with me; he’s truly an amazing man. He’s put up with so much in his life.
She was such a beautiful person, long, brown, curly hair, big beautiful brown hazel eyes. A big, bubbly personality made her seem even more beautiful than possible. Jessica, such a pretty name, it really suited her well.
I’ve never really gotten over Jessica’s death, I don’t think I ever will. But even though she’s not with me physically, I know she’s with me in spirit, to carry me on through every day. Just like it used to be…
________________________________________________
REALLY sorry about the crappy chapters.
But I promise the real story's going to start soon. PROMISE!
Comment and tell me what you think. I need opinions...