Sisters

My sister sat beside me on the little wooden back porch of our childhood house. We both held steaming mugs full of dark hot-chocolate because inside our hearts we will never grow up. That was my favorite thing about us, how we could still be kids. I watch you take a long sip then your eyes glance up at the golden rays that dance in between the trees and I see your eyes with a slight squint. "I know that squint." I say in my head because behind it is a smile. A smile so small I can only see with my heart. "Isn't this the most beautiful sunrise you have ever seen?" She asks me. In my head I say no, because I have never seen a sunrise. I don't wake up this early but only for you.

"Yes it is very beautiful!" I tell her but she has already moved on. "Isn't it strange to think how the sun is never truly gone?" You say in a more statement manner, "yes and also the moon." I say with a smile. You giggle, inside jokes we always had them.

"This maybe the last time I will ever..." she chokes on the words as tears burst from her closed eyes, I can't stop myself from doing the same. I hold on to her fragile cold hands. "Don't worry this won't be the last time." I can hardly speak the words. Strangely enough you can completely understand my mumbles and I yours. The sun sits above the trees now, silence falls over our heads.

You stay in this old house because you say you have no future only the past, and our toys remind you of yourself, loved but forgotten. "Please don't forget me" you whisper in your sleep. I won't, I won't, I won't. Plays over and over again in my mind as I began to close my wet eyes. I have a dream where your dark brown, almost black hair covers your entire body and you are sitting in a field of tiger lily's. The orange tips from the flowers seem to glow around your dark features and I see the gold in your eyes so clear it is as if you were made from it. In my dream I look down, I see myself holding an old used camera. I lift it up to my eyes as I peer through the lens no trace of you is left. Vanished. Awake, gasping for air I can't breathe. Eyes so drenched unable to see a thing. I walk past your bedroom in this old home where I left you before I closed my eyes. Empty. When I glance up that is all I see and feel.

Two very long years I have stayed in this house not knowing what to do...

I play it back in my head over and over again that last sunrise I saw with you. How the sun's rays illuminated your tan skin making you seem to glow.

The first and last one I will ever see.

I have walked past your room for two years unable to face reality. As I sit on the floor in your doorway bawling my eyes out I began to drag my seemingly dead body across the room on to your neatly made bed. I hate it! How perfectly it is tucked in and how no indication is formed in the pillow. I lay my head on it and close my eyes thinking about all the wise things you had told me. A smile? That is what I feel forming on my face. You are a smile. How can I not smile when I think of you?

Your beloved treasure box sits on a vanity beside the bed. I take it in my arms wipe off the thick layer of dust on top of it. It squeaks softly as I open it. I gasp. There is a note address to me!

I wish I could write down what was written in that letter but I can't bring myself into doing it. Too personal, too close to my heart I will never reveal it to anyone. My little secret she gave me before decaying.

Silence drifts through the walls of this childhood house.

Peace.

I come back to this old house that has seen better days when I want to feel you. I only come here at night. Why? Because you brought the sun here and I never want to see this place without you.

I take your letter from the old dusty box and hold it to my chest right over my heart and then I walk onto the back porch where we last sipped hot-chocolate and follow the little path we made as children. Although it is over grown I still see our little foot prints. I step in each one of them. The only light on this midnight hour is the moon. Full as my heavy heart.

The path leads to a rotten out deck that seems to be hovering now over the water. I walk to the edge and sit down, still grasping your letter tight.

You once told me the night was your oasis because no thoughts and ideas had been taken yet, anything is a possibility in this late hour. I remember how the moonlight looked against that straight hair of yours as you told me this. That is how it appears upon the water now. When this lake water stands still all I can see is the moon reflecting back at it's self. How can she see herself in such a distorted mirror? Doesn't she know she is magnificently captivating?

The slight ripples in the water create curved lines that tell lies.

"Never look at the reflection others make of you. Only focus on the reflection you know to be yourself when you close your eyes." Those words ring loudly as if I just heard them for the first time on this warm summer night.

I understand now.

You never truly vanished.