I've never really understood the true nature of human.
Not even after having so many friends and family around me. What we do will inevitably have an impact on our lives, yet how we live our lives can have absolutely no meaning when the Grim Reaper suddenly appears.
My sister, Bryanna, was an Exorcist, believe it or not. She was 7 years older than I am, but never took me as a child compared to herself, unlike our older brother, young priest apprentice Evan, did.
When I turned 15, my sister married a fellow Exorcist called Denzel. They had visited us fairly often despite their busy and rather dangerous work tasks before appearing on our porch on one sunny summer morning and telling they had got married.
Denzel was from an aristocratic home, so our parents were, of course, pleased although shocked for the sudden news. Our parents didn't know to be afraid for the sakes of the two of them. They didn't know both Denzel and Bryanna worked as Exorcists, only I did.
Bryanna had let me in on her secret powers ever since she had realized she possessed them. We were sisters and best friends, and when she was 16 this power, or Innocence, as she called it later on, emerged. She saved someone's life from the clutches of a demon, Akuma, that appeared in the outskirts of our hometown Sheelow. Bryanna's palms were able to cast blue fire – and after her first demon killing, she was found and taken care of by other of her kind, other Exorcists.
I was happy when she was given the opportunity to help others, for I knew she loved doing that. When she was let to visit us for the first time with Denzel, I learnt that she had also found the love of her life among them. I thought they were perfectly suited for each other.
I was always too immature to be worried about my sister and my new brother-in-law.
It all turned around, ironically, on another summer morning, a little over a year after Bryanna and Denzel had got married. My brother-in-law appeared to our yard in black, holding a delicate wooden urn in his gloved hands. I was the only one at home at the time, and he had known this.
I was not supposed to know about Bryanna's death, he told me after I had calmed down and we were sitting alone in our kitchen. But Denzel had felt that I was able to take it, that I had the right to know, and for that I was forever grateful for him. Together, we walked to a nearby hill with a view over Sheelow, and together we threw the ashes into the air and let the wind blow them away. I was sixteen years old yet cried like a little child. Denzel, who was sensitive enough not to show his pain to me despite it being very visible in his eyes, held me close and comforted me.
Bryanna would be in the clouds, he said softly. She would be in the stars, in the rain, in the snow, everywhere, and she would always look after us and my family.
After Denzel left Sheelow, I decided to never tell about Bryanna to my other family members. In the end, it was Evan, who found out from a priest collaegue of his that Bryanna had died from a mysterious disease and incinerated in the city of Gallouse.
My parents blamed Denzel, who had disappeared into thin air, for everything. I blamed myself for never worrying over Bryanna.
Seven years passed, and the pain was not forgotten, but it definitely softened in our hearts. We were able to talk about Bryanna without moving ourselves into tears. We were able to talk about Bryanna and laugh. Because that was life; unexpected in both good and bad. I thought that by my sister's death, I had come to understand life in exchange.
