One week.
One week had passed since my whole life had been turned upside down.
One week since everything changed.
One week since my sister died.
I had shut myself up in our room. My room now. Her presence was everywhere. I would stare at her bed and imagine her coming through the door and plopping down on her bed, telling me about her day. She would talk and I would listen. I would look at the desk and see her favorite book laying there, and think that she may still lay between its pages.
After a while I started to write poems anything I could. Shoes, walls, wrappers, it didn't matter.
I glanced at the clock, noticing it was about two in the morning. Big and Gram would be asleep. I crept out of my room and into the bathroom. I started the shower, hoping to feel numb. But as the warm water hit me, the tears I had been trying to hold back fell freely. It took me a moment to realize I was sobbing. I put my face in my hands and took deep breaths. I couldn't let Gram and Big hear me. Once I calmed down, I grabbed the washcloth and soap and tried to scrub myself clean. I tried to scrub away the pain and tears. I scrubbed away the sadness for a moment. I had to feel something, needed to feel something other than sadness.
I stepped out of the shower, my skin red from the scrubbing. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
I went back to our room and stared at the ceiling. There was no way I could sleep. I couldn't do it, knowing Bailey wasn't here, knowing Bailey would never be here again.
The whole house became unbearable to be in. Every part of every room held some reminder of her. I could still hear her laughter when Big would crack a joke, feel the warmth of her hugs around me, smell her perfume in our room. It was all too much for me to bear.
I hadn't talked to anyone since the day. Not Gram or Big or even Sarah. It was like all of my words died with her.
I glanced at her bed. It was the same way she left it, tidy and made. A jacket slung over the footboard. I cautiously moved across the room and picked up her jacket, sliding it on.
It smelled like her, like sunshine and happiness. I clung to it and retreated back to my own bed. It felt like she was hugging me somehow.
A few more tears escaped my eyes.
Bailey would never hug me again.
I cried until I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of the day I would see Bailey again.
