"I just don't know why someone would do that" you stifled out through a stream of tears running down your face. When we got to your parent's house, you tried to contain yourself. I knew it took every ounce of control you had to refrain from screaming, and crying, or killing whoever did it. But we were in the car now, away from your step-mother and sister and the police officers, who I knew you didn't want to cry in front of. I was the only one in the car though, so you didn't hold back.
Your step-mother walked out and tapped on my window. I rolled it down, and she told us your dad was murdered around 5 hours before we received the call. He was stabbed as he stepped out of his car on the way to the office building he worked at. She started to whimper, her bottom lip trembling, but took a deep breath and regained her tall posture. She turned and left up to the front door of your family's rather large house, stilettos clicking on the pavement. I heard you mumble under your breath about her; you called her a whore. Before I could stop you, you already left the car and the next thing I knew, the tall blonde 30-something-year old had a read mark on her face. "Don't disrespect me! I am your mother! You NEVER slap a lady!" she screamed at you. You chuckled. "You're not my mother, or a lady. You're just a whore" you spat.
We had never made contact with her again. Not after the 2 years you were here, or the 4 years you've been gone. Your sister, on the other hand, stayed close to us. I remember what you said about you two as kids, that she was your only friend. It was hard to believe since you were the social butterfly when I had met you, but it's not because you were shy or antisocial. It was because she was the only one you needed. The month after you were gone, she had given me so much comfort in my time of need. It was no wonder she was your sister. She was just like you.
I made the mistake of trying to replace you with her. I'd make her stay the night during the times I missed you. I'd order your coffee for her when she invited me to talk. I wasn't even trying; I guess I just missed you so much that I did it subconsciously. ButI forgot that you were matchless. But you didn't need another one of you. The real you would be back here soon, wouldn't you?