I used to believe in fairytales. We all did, at some point, right? But I went beyond the general fixation. When I looked up at the sky, gazing at the stars and the moon late at night, holding my sister’s hand, I felt like… anything was possible. I was so happy to believe in the unknown. Everything was an adventure, and no matter what happened, I always had my sister with me. She was my constant. And with her around, I could believe in anything.

That was before.

Before she followed a stupid dare. Before the time when I didn’t stop her from going through with jumping into ice-cold water. Before she got pneumonia. Before, when she was alive.

I was there, too. We all were. My sister, her new friends, my best friend from childhood. Almost everyone was drunk. I may have been too. I don’t remember all the details too clearly. I don’t really want to, either, to be honest. I knew it was my fault. I could’ve stopped her, done something! At the very least I should’ve been sober. I’ve always been the cautious one, looking out for Rose when she got into trouble. But that night… everything was different. Rose and her new friends were playing truth or dare, and we were all on a cliff overhead the beach. It was supposed to be a fun party, to celebrate. I don’t even know what anymore. Rose got dared to dive off the cliff and into the water. I should’ve stopped her! But I had no idea what to do until it was too late. Until the ambulance was called, because someone had the ability to be sober enough to realize that something was wrong when Rose hit the water.

She was rushed to the hospital as soon as the ambulance arrived, and for a bit it seemed like there was still hope. She had fluid in her lungs and she was in danger of getting pneumonia, but the doctors were doing all they could to keep her going.

A few hours later, her body stopped responding. Her heart stopped.

And I couldn’t do anything about it. It was too late. I was too late.

Now, school’s starting again. I don’t know how I’m going to make it without Rose with me. All I feel is emptiness. Even when I hear Mom and Dad fighting again about me, about what to do, about what I did. Their arguments used to tear me up inside, frustrate me. All I wanted was for them to get along. Be the parents they were when I was a child. Now all I feel is sadness. Sadness for what used to be. And guilt, for what I did--or more like what I didn’t do. Anger, though that was temporary. I almost miss it. At least then I felt something other than grief. At least then I had the will to do something. Rose was my anchor, and I was hers. What do you do when your rock, your constant, is gone? When all you’ve ever been sure of, all that kept you to this world, disappears as if never existing in the first place? Sure, I have my parents, my friends, but Rose and I, we were twins. Sisters. Best friends. I was older by a few hours, and I was supposed to take care of her. Instead, I let her die. Even if it wasn’t directly my fault, I failed. And now she’s gone. Forever.

Nothing will ever be the same. No matter how much I wish it could be.