This is my own story, not fanfic. Trigger warning!!
I've always been running. If I don't she'll die. That can't happen. I won't let it happen.
Let me explain. My sister was never happy. She had little excitements and happy days, but her depression was always lingering, waiting to strike when she was vulnerable enough to tear into her own skin. I remember the day we had to take her to the hospital. I had just gotten off of the school bus, I had walked home to find my parents lifting her into the car, there was blood everywhere, her body was limp. We stayed in the hospital overnight, I was curled up in her hospital bed with her, when she woke up she started crying, saying sorry over and over again. But I hugged her and shushed her and told her it was okay, but it wasn't. I was scared. Scared that she would do it again. So I run. Everyday I get off the bus and start running. Tearing down the streets, passing house after house until I finally reach her. The kids on the bus make fun of me, always laughing, always having something "funny" to say when I get off of the bus. But it's not funny. It's not. If they knew. If they had any idea they wouldn't be laughing. They wouldn't be laughing at all. But I can't tell them. It would be exposing my sister's secret. I don't want them to know. This went on for months. Almost two years. Every day. Run. Run. Run. I ran. And ran. And ran. And even after all that. I ran some more.
The funeral was depressing. My sister, dressed in black also, sat on my right, staring unfocused, as if in shock, with dried tears on her face, and mascara running under her eyes. My mother was on my left, blowing loudly into a hankerchief, sobbing and wiping tears from her cheekbones, rubbing mascara and makeup on her face. I looked at my father, his pale body in the casket, the flowers in his hands. I was crying.
I still ran when we went back to school. She doesn't talk, like she was afraid if she talked about it it'd be true. I didn't blame her.
I don't need to run anymore, her funeral was more depressing than my fathers.