Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn’t want to wake up, for she wanted to stay in this dream world where all was right, where her sister hadn’t killed herself that April night. She was watching Samantha read, as she always had, while she herself worked on homework. In this endless evening, when Sam caught her younger sister looking at her, she would wink, and would seal that moment for all of eternity in both of their minds. She would continue with her homework and Sam would continue to read To Kill A Mockingbird, as she always had and always would be in this dream.
Sam loved that book. It is… was… her favorite.
She loved to read. She loved to read the stories aloud to her little sister, and explain all of them for her young, gentle mind to understand. Sam read To Kill A Mockingbird many times to her. In another dream, she would repeat the same line of the book again and again, the very first line, then she would smile at her sister and read it again. It was the same moment repeated over and over, but it was one of those nice moment which she liked to remember.
That’s what she liked to think about when she thought of her sister; her smile, the little mannerisms she had which were so uniquely her. Not the empty bottle of pills and her pale, blank face.
She did not think about the faucet that dripped on that April night and still dripped to this day. Her mother had not called a plumber or a handyman to fix it. Her mother had not done much of anything since Sam’s death. Her father put on a brave face when he went out the door each morning then took it off promptly when he got home, retreating to his man cave, to stare at whatever was on TV, not really seeing it.
She sat there doing her homework, and looked up only to realize that Sam wasn’t there…that she wouldn’t ever be again. She had those glorious yet terrible dreams which she never wanted to leave, because it would mean returning to a world where Sam wasn’t. Where she hadn’t anyone to guide her through life, to explain the novel stretching in front of her.