“Evan can you come into the living room. We need to talk.”
“Oh man” I thought to myself. What could they have found in my room this time, I’m pretty sure I put away all my bongs and pipes.I left my homework and laptop on the kitchen table and slowly made my way to my parents. My arms swung haphazardly by my side as I  made my way to the couch next to little sister Katie. I sat there something didn’t seem right. My mother’s eyes showed a fear. And my father kept looking everywhere in the room except at us.
“Katie is sick again, it’s back,” she said. Her eyes watered up as the words fell off her tongue. Her blue eyes turned glassy as she put her hands in her brown hair. Everything stopped as if someone had sent a bullet through my heart. Questions soared through my head. When I was 13 the doctors said that this thing called illness would be gone and out of my younger sister’s system. This time it wasn’t just her mind not working right, it was her whole body. She started taking different medications all promising to do the same thing. None seemed to be working.
The smell of grandparents came and went. Lots of food and flowers filled the house with a masking happiness. The phone was always ringing, people were telling us to be strong and they were here if we needed them. Prayer groups started meeting again in our home which hadn’t happened since the last time Katie went to the hospital. It all seemed so fake, I don't know if they were doing all of this so if in the end they didn’t make it they were able to say that they had at least put in a little effort. I knew she would get better she and I were fighters, always had been, it was in our blood. Katie would beat it just like last time..
Years came and went. The endless doctor visits and overnights in the hospital became a blur. I sat in a new waiting room. The smell of this one was different than the rest. Back in Texas people had mild forms of the sickness but if they were sent here it was much worse. Glen Oaks’s waiting room had a coldness that draped the room with a fear of death in everyone's eyes. I was fifteen and the thing called the sickness had a name. Depression. It wasn’t just bruises and self-inflicted cuts on my sisters tan skin it was everywhere in her. Its was images of her throwing herself of rooftops and swallowing bottles of pills. No amount of pickup lines or Harry Potter movie marathons could ease the pain, or the frightening images that plagued her mind. she started losing interest in all of her favorite things and began to spend more and more time behind closed doors.  Surely enough Katie’s mind and body began destroying her from the inside out.
“You can come back now,” the nurse said. I looked in the nurse's’ eyes she didn’t want to be here anymore then I did. I stepped into the room. My baby sister laid helpless on the bed, tubes coming from her side, IV in her arm, There were now hoses that were putting air in her nose. Her eyes showed nothing but pain but she tried hiding it from me with a small smile she plastered on her face. It was hard to imagine that 24 hours ago she had swallowed the contents of a bottle of tylenol and smirnoff to wash it down with. We all knew she was in a bad place, I just don’t think any of us knew the severity of it all.
“Come on Evan come up here and sit beside me, tell me a story about everyone at school. Play a board game with me and keep me company” she said with a timid tone. I walked over trying to make sure not to unhook anything and just layed beside her. Tears burned my eyes as everything I held back trying to stay strong for her crumbled. My tears were a virus that spread from my mom to my dad and even a the few night nurses passing by.
“It is gonna be alright, we are gonna fight through this together,” her words were firm this time. This family was strong and we would all fight this thing together. We were fighters, but sometimes no matter how hard you fight, you still lose..