I shot the ball. It bounced off the backboard and rolled back to my feet. I looked back up at the unforgiving homemade wire rim and remembered what helped me escape all those harsh emotions I felt for all those months. Through the chemo and the operations, this was my one pleasure in life. It was my one place to escape it all and remind me that I was still a teenager and not a rock from which strength could be drawn from. My family depended on my strong will and unwavering disposition, especially my little brother. No one in my family knew what to expect when the doctors told us the earth shattering news. It was like someone had taken a snow globe and shook it up so all the glitter and confetti clouded the glass. I was trapped with no way out. When everyone found out about her, they treated me differently. Almost as if she had already passed on and they were helping me mourn her.

I remember looking in on the kitchen table, that shared so many family meals and laughter, and watching it stacked up with bills from the hospital. My dad never slept. You could find him in the middle of the night staring out the back window into the dark abyss of night. My mother had constant tears streaming down her beautiful face from her dark hazel eyes. The pain was eminent on her face. Whenever my sister would walk into the room, mom would quickly wipe the tears away and casually go about her business. My little brother did not know how to feel about the situation because of his young age and innocent stature. He could sense the upsetting unbalance in our household. I feel as if part of his childhood was stolen from him because he was exposed to the tragedy at such a young age. I became distant from everyone outside of my family. I quit my beloved sport, and my friends couldn’t understand, so it became hard to just hang out. My sister and I were very close in age; in fact our birthdays were exactly one year and one month apart. We had some of the same friend and we would always hang out together. I could tell her things I would be embarrassed to tell anyone else. My sister wanted our family to go about our normal lives, but we couldn’t.

After the bad news was broken to our family, the months started to blur together. I couldn’t decipher one day from another. The doctor appointments, operations, school, and home life became a vague impression. The doctors told us she didn’t have long to live, but we never gave up on her. On a dreary December day my sister took a turn for the worse. We called all of our family and friends together to say our final good-byes. All day long people went into the hospital room and came out looking somber. Our family waited in the hall while she said her last good-byes. I wasn’t ready to let her go, but the creator was ready to take her. One by one our family members went in. I was the last one to go. As I walked into the room, I got a sudden sense of warmth even though I was standing in a cold and damp hospital room. My sister was lying on the bed so when I walked in she looked up at me with her hazel eyes. I wanted to hold myself together for her but I could feel the tears spilling from my eyes. I walked over and sat down beside her. She smiled and reached out her arms for one last hug. Everyday I miss her, but now I know that she is not suffering and I will see her again one day.