I Should Have Been There

       I remember the look of pure horror in my face as I stared down at my sister’s limp body. I wasn’t sure what to do; I was frantic, reaching for the phone, wanting to call the police. “Wait,” I thought, maybe she’s still alive; wanting to call an ambulance. I decided to lay myself over her chest, and just sob. It was a pure mixture of sobs and screams of confusion.

       I kept replaying the scene in my head, my body pulsating with guilt, “I should have been here. I should have been here,” I kept chanting to myself. There was a tornado of utter misery surrounding my head, creating a fog that I couldn’t seem to get out of. What will my parent’s think? I wasn’t even sure of the cause of her death. Nothing mattered to me; my life was spiraling down into a deep dark hole that I never imagined myself even dreaming of falling into.

       I was motionless, almost as if I were imitating my sister. I kept thinking of him; I couldn’t believe that I had left her alone. My mind then changed; I was full of anger, revenge, feelings that I wasn’t quite familiar with. Just then, my mind snapped. What am I doing? I lunged for the phone, dialing the only three numbers that would come to mind, 911. I just mumbled “She’s dead. She’s dead. Why?” I lay there holding onto the phone as if it would keep my heart beating, muttering meaningless words into the receiver. Red and blue lights soon blurred my vision and I realized that what I thought was a sick dream was turning into a harsh reality.

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