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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1042699-Over-my-Dead-Body
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1042699
Pain and commitment
Have you ever forgotten the little things in life when you lose someone close to you? Have you ever forgotten the person you lost? Have you ever tried to forget them? I have, on too many occasions. I have tried to forget my twin sister, hooked up to that life support system. I watched her slowly slip away from the light of life, and I tried to forget every detail of those painfully hard months. I watched my sister die.

My name is Rachel Nova. When all this happened, I was 17 years old, a model student, the perfect daughter and a volunteer at the hospital as a Candy Striper. My sister, Christine or Chrissie, was the complete opposite of me. She was failing every class, she was always getting into trouble, and she wouldn’t have even thought of setting one foot inside a hospital. She told me “Over my dead body,” every time when I suggested it. That was the wrong thing to say.

I was volunteering late on a Saturday night when I heard my favorite doctor being called to the E.R. I was also called, but that was perfectly normal. I was always helping the doctors in the E.R. or just outside the E.R. I got there as quickly as I could, without looking too eager. When I got there, I had quite the shock. Chrissie was lying on the stretcher as it came in. My sister had a huge gash across her face, and she had a piece of glass imbedded in her forehead. I started to turn and run, but one of the nurses stopped me. I collapsed in her arms and started to cry tears of grief and horror. I was so confused because my sister was supposed to have stayed home that night because she was grounded.

The nurse that was holding me told me to take several deep breaths and then go sit in the waiting room. I walked to the waiting room slowly and I sat down for what would be a very long and painful night.


I looked around the waiting room at the worried faces of the people who were just like me. I turned and looked down. I saw a book beside me that read on the cover, “Healing the Grief”. I nearly burst into tears when I read it. I kept looking around for my parents and I kept wondering where they were. Many coffees and several magazines later, the doctor came out looking very tired. He was full of blood; his eyes were hard and cold as ice. I looked frantically into them for any sign that my sister was alive. They gave no hint whatsoever.

He looked at me with hard eyes and told me my sister was in a coma because of the loss of blood. I wanted to run, but I was frozen to the floor. I looked around for a window for some air, but I wasn’t really seeing anything except my sister’s bloodied face. I wanted my parents, and I was soon going to find out where my parents were.

I was hovering over my sister’s bed when two police men came to talk to me. They told me my parents were being arrested for the attempted murder of my sister. I stared at them as if they weren’t really there, and everything clicked into place. I remembered everything from the day before up to the moment where I left for the hospital. I started talking about what had happened the day before. My sister was grounded, so she was pouting in her room, and Dad was under Chrissie’s car. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me that Chrissie needed new brakes, so he was going to install them. I started laughing at myself and said that I had been so stupid for not realizing anything suspicious.

I refused to go to school and my friends brought me my homework, but I never did it. Those three months were painful and made me realize that life is too short to waste. I soon had to make a decision on what to do with my sister.

My sister didn’t last long on the life support machine, she had no brain activity, and she couldn’t breath on her own. I decided that they should turn off the machine, because I knew Chrissie wouldn’t want to see herself like this. I decided to donate her organs to the hospital and I vowed I would never set foot into a hospital ever again. My parents begged for forgiveness, but I was turned to stone by the realization that my parents were cold-blooded murderers. I told them I wanted them to rot in Hell and I ignored my parents’ pleas for the first and only time in my life.

The funeral was simple and nothing special, but I did say a few words to make myself believe that Chrissie was truly with our Father in Heaven.

"Journey of Hearts"
By:Kirsti A. Dyer

"I find an old photograph
and see your smile.
As I feel your presence anew,
I am filled with warmth
and my heart remembers love.

I remember who you used to be
the laughter we shared
and wonder what you have become.
Where are you now,
Where did you go,
When the body is left behind
and the spirit is released to fly?

Perhaps you are the morning bird
singing joyfully at sunrise,
or the butterfly that dances
so carelessly on the breeze
or the rainbow of colors
that brightens a stormy sky
or the fingers of afternoon mist
delicately reaching over the mountains
or the final few rays of the setting sun
lighting up the skies
edging the clouds with a magical glow.

I miss your being
but I feel your presence,
In whatever form you choose to take,
however you now choose to be.


Your spirit has become for me
a guardian angel on high
guiding, advising, and watching over me.

I remember you.
You are with me
and I am not afraid."


She was my sister and I will never forget her. She was my twin sister and we shared a strong bond, even if we were complete opposites. We were one in our hearts and it makes me scared when I look in the mirror and see not only myself, but Chrissie too. I live for the both of us and I will never forget her.
My life has been a roller-coaster since Chrissie died, but I remember one thing; I will never set foot into another hospital again. I say “Over my dead body!”
© Copyright 2005 Dawn Moore (shaitan121 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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