Sister and Me
I thought I knew how to live - I did not.
Sitting on the edge of the rooftop of my condominium, I thought that I would not kill myself, as long as someone smiles at me today. It is kind of a silly phrase that I said to myself when I had an idea of committing suicide. I then grabbed a medicine bottle from my bag and swallowed three big pills into my mouth. The taste of the pills was so bitter that I want to spit it out. This pill helped me cope with a headache. Suddenly, my phone rang before I could think anything more.
“Lila I forgot my phone on the shelf. Could you bring it back to me tomorrow! Thank you”
I hung up on my friend and walked quickly downstairs to my living room to write a reminder note before I forgot it. The small post it on the table, as yellow as pineapple, caught my eye. I glanced through it swiftly and then remembered that it was my sister birthday and the day that she passed away.
I picked up the white thin paper out of my drawer. My heart was beating so fast it seems like I was having an attack and my hands were shaking as I started to read the letter, just like the last time.
In my family, there was one person who everyone always provided a special need for and that was my sister. She wasdiagnosed with the disease called Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) when she was 9 years old. This disease makes her muscles uncontrollable and she is unable to move as she likes. In addition, it affects her voice and makes her pronunciation weird when she speaks. Luckily, my family had a big business, so there was no problem with the medical cost. Everything went well until I graduated from high school. My parent got into a car accident, which turned the table. Now there were only two of us, me and my disabled sister. Since I was young, I never had a chance to talk to her except dinnertime. She was too fragile - like a flower. She could not even be able to walk because her leg refused to move. She almost went the whole day without interacting with people, but her private nurse. I did not have a strong tie which my sister when I was young nor did it improve when I grew up. The only good memory that I had with her was cooking an omelet together, one year before she had that disease. I wished our reality ended like the movie “Frozen” where the sisters got closer eventually.Unfortunately, there was no such moment for us.
When I was 20 years old, my sister’s private nurse told me that my sister could barely talk right now. The doctor told the nurse that my sister probably came to the last stage of her life which I thought was too fast – she just one year older than me and she is too young to die. Despite this fact, I did not care that much as I thought it was time for me to concentrate on my own dream.My sister already bothered me a lot, and I found myself exhausted by taking care of her: my sister’s nurse could only come to help me during the weekend. I felt that she was the one who oppressed me from achieving my bright...