She tossed and turned
As though she were fighting something
According to her, that day didn't happen
No, it was bad dream, a horrible nightmare
And that all was okay
Her sister was fine
Wearing pretty bracelets, after a "retreat"
And that what happened wasn't real
As far as she knew, her sister always took medicine
This was always the case, right? Right?
Most nights, she tossed and turned madly
As though she were fighting an adversary unseen
Her memory of that day
Replaying over and over
There was a sea of red
Flowing from a bathtub
With her sister in the middle of it
Bleeding from an incision
That sinking feeling of dread
And that sense of urgency
She tied the tourniquet
She remembered the hospital trip
She was begging and sobbing
There wasn't a note
No reason was given
But she blamed herself
Was she not worth staying alive?
As a baby, she was thrown away
And, that day seemed to suggest that her sister would rather die
Than stay with her
No, that didn't happen
It never happened, her sister was always sick
Yet, she still avoided that bathroom
She was tossing and turning, still
That day replaying her mind
Haunting her dreams
She convinced herself
That whatever happened was a horrible nightmare
And that what's she seeing presently
Was always there
Deep within, she knew
She knew it happened, but it hurt
Hurt too much to face
She never talked about her nightmares
But her sister knew she had them
Being there to help her sleep more soundly
At some point, they'd discuss it
But, right now, they'd deal with the aftermath
Of that horrible day