Cecilia

The tree was planted when I was born. So, as it's leaves grew scarce and the twigs dried out, I felt like I was drying out, my good thoughts growing scarce.

I remember hot summers reading Jane Austen amongst its branches. I remember cold winters, watching the tree in all it's naked beauty. The red squirrels, quarrelling and chasing each other to the top of the tree. Giggling as little chicks toddle around awkwardly. All them, gone. An end of an era. It seemed right that I should go with it.

I explained all this to my parents as I lay on the hospital bed. The itchy blanket causing a rash on my thigh. It feels reassuring to know I can still feel pain. They sit there in disbelief. My mothers face as pale as the sheet on my bed and my father, trying to see some logic in it. The air feels awkward. I take in the room around me with my nose wrinkling as the smell of stale disinfectant hits my nose and makes a permanent imprint. The cotton blue walls and crystal white floors which surround me in a never ending prison.

The only reassurance is the view out of the window. The hospitals green lush garden alive with life. Each bush with it's own red admiral butterfly. Daisy's littered the lawn. Oh what I wouldn't give to be out there with my sisters, making daisy chains and braiding each others hair.

I look back at my parents. My mother seems to have regained composure and is getting up to leave. My father gets up and kisses me on the forehead. I feel emptiness as they go and I wish I was going with them.

Cecilia came home last night. She walked in and went straight up to her room to gaze out of her window. Bonnie went in to talk to her and cheer her up a bit. Bonnie was the one who first found her. She walked into the bathroom to get the aspirin and Cecilia was lying on the floor with blood spurting out of her hands.

Back in my room. These four walls encompassing me... again. I'm glad the tree is still there. My sisters are still sleeping and my father is downstairs. I cant believe everything is just normal. You'd think that nothing had ever happened. I guess I'm glad, I don't want them to be upset.

Bonnie screamed and I came running. My blood ran cold and my head jumped to the worst scenario. Sadly, it was the worst case scenario. The bathroom was cold and icy and the window was wide open. The curtains were billowing out as if they were trying to escape. I remember wondering, why? My dad's razor was in the bath with a puddle of blood. My mother pushing past, shielding us from the worst. My father called the ambulance and we were herded into our room...

I write in my journal. I go through family albums and feel... nothing. No remorse, no regret. Nothing. I don't laugh at Therese with ice cream on her nose. I don't sigh happily at the holiday pictures. But whenever I look at photos of that tree, a surge of shock shakes me.

Well, she's home now. I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling. The cozy home tiles mismatched the pattern and were going a bit grey. I hear my dad going to the toilet and Bonnie is tossing and turning next to me. I get up and open the window. It feels nice to breathe the fresh air and to look around at the neighbours gardens. All the funny little gnomes with their plastic fishing rods. I look down, just below the window. Lovely lush grass fresh with dew. I feel an overwhelming urge to jump, I feel safe, as if the grass would catch me. I want to jump... but I don't.

I'm sitting at the table with my family. Bonnie has been really supportive but my other sisters seem to be a bit off with me. It feels like dinner has taken forever. The stiff wooden chairs are making my back ache. I look over at Lux. She inherited the looks. Her long blonde hair and her bright blue eyes with her slender cheek bones. Then there's me. My dull dark hair which makes me look paler and my boring brown eyes which never sparkles like lux's do.

It was horribly awkward at dinner. Cecilia kept staring at me with her long hard eyes. The thing is... I have nothing to say to her. I find her scary, as if her innocence has been taken by the accident. Mother told me to be as normal as possible around her and to celebrate her being alive she's throwing a party and is inviting the boys from over the street. They're always watching us and Mary fancies the tall one.

It seems we're having a party... with boys. I know I should be excited, Mary is, but I'm dreading it. There'll be dancing and pretty dresses. And then there'll be me and my bandages all alone in a corner. Lux will be flirting and Bonnie would be dancing. She promised to tape some bangles to my bracelets to sparkle them up a bit. I told her it's no use but she won't listen.

I feel so pretty. My dress is like a fountain of silk which swishes at my feet and my hair is as slick as Elvis'. I can't stop grinning and my legs feel like jelly. I hear the door bell and my heart flutters. They may not be attractive but still, they're boys. I head downstairs and I feel their eyes on me. I give them my best smile and greet them. They looked quite smart in their shirts I suppose and the short one has cute dimples.

I follow Bonnie down the stairs and smile briefly at the boys. Lux is giggling and tossing her hair away like a trooper. I feel embarrassed and ugly and I would give anything for them to leave. Mother leads us to the basement with it's horribly cheap and tacky plastic decorations.

The basement looked amazing. Better than I've ever seen it. The floor was sparkling and the ceiling was littered with bouncy, bubbly balloons. The food looked fit for a king and the punch was a glittering bowl of pink fruitiness.

The music started playing and it was quite a good combination of songs. I suppose this was an uplift to the party. Bonnie is talking to the boy with all the zits and Lux is dancing with the short boy. I take a glass of the lurid pink drink and make my way upstairs...

I sit on my bed and fiddle with my dress. I think of my family but I feel nothing. I think of my tree and i start to cry. Tears stream down my face as i pore through my journal. I think of the unfairness of it. That tree is dying. Let it die gracefully. Who cares if it infects other trees. That tree was my tree. They can get new trees but my tree...

I open the window...

The party was just kicking off when it happened...

I took in the air...

The atmosphere dropped...

I see the spikes beneath me...

The screams sounded as if they were a mile away...

I jump...

I felt numb and as if everything was going in slow motion...

Wait! What am I...?

Cecilia, the youngest, was the first to go.