I remember Tiffany coming down the stairs, dragging her feet as she went. Her eyes were red and full of pain. I was the first to notice.

  “Tiffany! What’s wrong?” I burst out, running to meet her. Now everyone had turned to her.

  “Connie…she’s not breathing. I checked her pulse…I think she’s dead,” was all she said.

  The funeral was tiny. Only a few close friends had been invited. Tiffany was perfectly still and silent. She didn’t cry once. She thanked everyone for coming calmly. The only thing that showed the least bit of distress was the shaking of her hands. It was like she still couldn’t understand that her sister was gone. She stared at the coffin with a look of disbelief.

  “It’s going to be alright.” That was all I could think to say to her. That was what people told me when I was upset. She turned to me slowly. Her eyes scanned my face and searched my soul. But I wasn’t afraid this time. I had nothing to hide from her. I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be alright. Don’t worry.”

  “What am I now? What am I now?” I still have no idea what exactly she meant when she said that. But I felt her squeeze my hand back. I smiled. For me, that was my sign that things would indeed be fine. Poor little Connie, sweet, adorable little Connie. But what was Tiffany going to do? Tiffany had spent so much of her time taking care of Connie. She’d tell her stories and sing her all kinds of lovely songs. But it’s okay, I thought to myself. I can be your new Connie. We’ll take care of each other. You’ll be okay. She was quiet on the car ride as well.

  “Are you alright?” Mama and Papa asked her several times. Every time they asked, Tiffany would reply with

  “I’ll be okay.”

  We got home and Tiffany went up to her room. Papa and Mama told to leave her alone. so I did just that. Who would have guessed that going to bed early would be hard, knowing, sleep would be hard to come by? I sat by my window and hummed one of Tiffany’s songs to myself. Drops of rain hammered on the window. How perfect. I let out a sigh. What could I do in the morning to make Tiffany feel better? If I was upset like she was, what would I want her to do for me? I let my eyes drift lazily across the gray, lifeless landscape. It had been a hot, dry summer, followed by a dull, colorless fall. The whole world was grey. The only thing that wasn’t gray was the little, tiny dark speck I spotted moving down the driveway. My goodness! That was Tiffany! My heart began to race so quickly that it hurt my chest. She dragged her feet as she went. It wasn’t too late to catch her. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t even grabbed a rain jacket from the looks of it. I raced down the stairs and rushed after her into the rain. What was she doing? Where was she going? My first thought was that she had simply lost her mind.

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  “Tiffany!” The wind rushed to steal my cries. The way it shrieked felt cruel. It was mocking me. My pace quickened. Now that I had something to feel angry about, I was able to run faster. Anger always gave me strength, but for the first time in my whole life I was using it to do the right thing. Tiffany disappeared from my sight as she entered the forest. I had an awful feeling rising up in me, clawing at my chest. Why was she doing this? Why was she here? She was going to catch a cold out here in the icy rain. I dove into the forest after her.

  “Tiffany! Please answer me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The wind shouted over my scream once again. I gritted my teeth. Yelling was no good. Tiffany hadn’t even seen me chasing after her. I just had to keep running. I could see her again, through the trees. She was standing still now. At last! I shot forward and burst into the clearing where she was crouching. “Tiffany!” I will never forget what I saw there, not as long as I live. Tiffany was crouched down, eyes filled with anger, and a bloody knife clenched in her hand. Her shouts echoed in my mind as she stabbed her own chest again and again.

  “Please! No! Please! Just let me go already! Just let me die!” Blood, blood, blood. I felt sick. I wanted to run back home and forget what I had seen, but my eyes were glued to her. “I want to! Please! Let me die!” With a howl that made even the wind sound weak, she flung the knife away. It landed at my feet, and I screamed. Tiffany looked up. Our eyes met. Shock, then guilt, drifted across her face. Slowly, blood dripping down her arms, she got to her feet. Tears filled my eyes, blocking the awful sight. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Tyla.” Her voice was soft and calm again. “I’m sorry. I’m just angry. I’ve lost everything. My world is gone, and I’m not even allowed to die. I’ve never been able to die. No matter how hard I try.” I stared at her with a mixture of awe and fear as the blood seemed to vanish.

  Her clothes were stained, but there was no wound or sign of stab marks. “I thought Connie would be the same. I thought we’d be alright. But she’s not like me… but now she’s gone. I have nothing! Nothing! N—not even death!” With that, she fell to the ground again. A sudden wave of strength filled me. Tiffany wasn’t a cold, stuck up, heartless monster. She was a little baby who didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have the strength to face her pain. I took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Let’s go home. It’s cold out here,” I said. She nodded and got to her feet. “Everything is alright. Come on, there are some dry clothes and a nice clean bed waiting for you back home.” Not even the words that were coming out of my mouth sounded like my own. But they were working. To my surprise, she followed me obediently. “You’ll be okay, I’m here.” I held my head up as we walked. I kept my pace steady. I needed to be strong for her. A voice in the back of my mind pointed out that she should be dead by now and the fact that she wasn’t was rather strange. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping Tiffany safe. I tucked her in that night like she was a little girl. I sang her songs, and I set the photo book on her nightstand. I didn’t leave her side until the morning light filled her room with gold.