I hate that I made her so sad.
She’s trying to hide it, but I know.
I know because I’ve been watching her. She’s looking around without being obvious about it. I’ve had my eyes up on her for over fourteen years. I can always tell what she’s thinking, even when she refuses to admit it. Even when she’s fighting it. She forgets that I can see her in the dark, when her face is secretly honest.
The first time we met, I felt her looking at me, felt kind eyes on my back. I was so sick, so shy, I didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to move from the safe place behind my dancing sister.
But she held out her hand, called to me, and I couldn’t say no.
She never made me feel small or weak or anything but an important piece of her.
On lazy mornings, I would talk to her and she would laugh. Head tilted back, squared white teeth exposed, she’d laugh, then look at me with twinkling blue eyes and talk right back.
My sister would look at us like we were nuts, turn her head like she was rolling her eyes, and walk away.
We’ve been like this for years, our little group. It was just us three for a while, but we let others in. My quiet, watchful, protective sister; me, with the jokes and the silliness; and her with the gentle hands and busy feet.
I never wanted to break us up.
But it was time.
I waited, I took my chance, slipped away, and now I watch them from afar.
She says she has hope, she says there’s still a chance, but I can see in her face that she doesn’t expect to hear from me again. She knows in her heart that I am gone.
She’s strong, she has distractions, and she’ll be okay.
Once my sister stops weeping in the quiet of night.
The lights turn off, and the crying, wailing, circling in begins. A desperate call I can’t answer.
My sister is lost in the dark nights without me.
And my mom with the golden hair wipes tears from her eyes as she listens, unable to do anything to help any of us.
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This post was in response to the Lightning & the Lightning-Bug Flicker of Inspiration Writing Prompt.
Your prompt this week is to role-play an entire blog post.
Try to keep it under 700 words
This week, one of my cats has gone missing. The logistics of this are virtually impossible, but I know that sometimes when It Is Time for an older pet to pass on, he can magically slip away, leave without a trace, to go do what needs to be done without any witnesses.
I’ve been trying to hold out hope, but when I lay in bed at night, his sister’s desperate wails break my heart over and over again. It has been a sad week for both of us.
This is the first time I’m really talking about it. I haven’t been able to. I’ve had them so long. He was a runt, sick, but I loved him and his sister the moment I saw them. I nursed him back to health. When he was a baby, he’d make a nest in my hair to sleep in at night. This loss has not been easy on me.
So I chose to speak in his voice in the hopes it would help me through this a little.
Feedback, concrit and comments always desired…I do respond to every one.
To read more submissions to this prompt, CLICK HERE.
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