She used to care. I thought if I just stayed put, she’d always come back for me. I was wrong. I remembered Mom holding our hands, telling us, “You’re brother and sister. You
have to look after each other.” We’d both
nodded solemnly.
There was a home video of Olivia meeting me
for the first time, a baby. She’d been so
excited, running circles around me. When I
took my first wobbly steps, she’d stood there,
arms outstretched, ready to catch me. But the
grown–up Olivia just told me to go away,
yelled at me for no reason.
“You killed Evan, and you broke up our family.
It’s all your fault.” “Ethan, you shouldn’t be
alive.”
I’d dream of Evan, asking him to take me
away. Olivia was so mean. Evan would say,
“She’s just upset. Sisters take care of their
brothers, and brothers understand their
sisters.
So, I kept hoping she’d go back to how she
used to be. On my eighteenth birthday, when
she smashed the cake in my face, the hatred
in her eyes… For a moment, I wished it had
<
been me, swept away by the wave. Or that I’d
never been born at all.
- 16.
I ran out of pills. I knew I should see Sarah,
but what was the point? Better to go out on
my own terms. I chose a date. I’d lost so
much weight, barely ate anything except iced
lattes. Sarah had described the worst–case
scenario, the indignities. I’d begged her to let
me choose my own way out. I couldn’t bear
the thought of dying in a cold hospital bed,
hooked up to machines, alone.
She’d asked how I could be so cruel to
myself. I’d told her, smiling, that the cruelest
thing had already happened, ten years ago,
when I was nine.
<
I wanted to see Evan, happy. So, I went back
to the house, looking for the scarf Mom had
knitted for me. The house was still and
empty. Olivia wasn’t there. Mom wasn’t there.
No one cared. Ten years, and it hadn’t
changed.
I
My room was exactly as I’d left it. I found the
scarf in my closet, packed it, and took one
last look. I wouldn’t be back. Things were
missing from the living room. Dad’s paintings,
the antique vase he’d bought at auction,
