Every time I look at my backyard fence I am reminded that she is gone. She is gone, and in the end there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

In 1989, a couple gave birth to a boy. My older brother, lets call him C. In 1993 I was born. In 1995 my little sister was born, let's call her K. And in 2000 my youngest sister was born, let's call her A. But this story is about K and I, and the fact that she is long gone.

When we where little, my mom would drop K and I off at a babysitter; both my parents worked, and C had school. K and I would bring instant ramen and popcorn with us, and we would giggle and play, lost in our own little world. This world lasted into elementary, even after we stopped needing a babysitter.

But in middle school everything changed. While I drowned under the pressure of being unpopular, K flourished. She picked up everything she needed to have friends, transforming in the process. Into someone I could not recognized. All of a sudden, all I was worthy of was scorn, and our parents were the enemy. Our little sister A suffered the most, thanks to both K and I—but that's another story.

Short skirts, rap music, thug life—it became K's world. When she wasn't mocking me, she was fighting with my parents. My mom in particular was a big source of K's ire. I sank into a dark world of my own, causing no little grief. But again, that's another story.

Once, I ran away from home. But I came back. Then came high school, and I hoped that our family could remain whole. No such luck: C graduated, then moved away. Meanwhile, the fight between K and my mom grew worse. When K caused the Walmart incident, both my parents made it clear that she was skating on thin ice. K was talking to me again—mostly about how much she hated our parents, especially mom. I pretended to sympathize, while reporting to my parents; for I was a double agent, doing my duty as a big brother in order to keep K out of trouble. But I accomplished nothing.

The fights between K and my mom grew worse, and it all came to a head a week before I graduated the class of 2012: my mom had caught K sneaking in, after having snuck out with her boyfriend. They had their worst fight yet, and when my mom took her eyes off of K for a second, she vanished. Ran away. For weeks, we desperately searched for her, and one day K came back of her own free will. And maybe, my family would stay whole this time. But no. K confined in me her plans to get away, as soon as she graduated. Meanwhile, my parents decided to smuggle K into Mexico with our her knowledge. To them, the answer lay in getting K away from the influences that had corrupted her. For this plan to work, my mom, K, and A would have to stay in Mexico for a year, while my dad and I stayed in America.

The plan worked like a charm, and when K found out she shouted something to my mom I will never forget: Te odio. I hate you. For the entire month of July, my dad and I lived alone, and I prayed for the reunion of my family. I got my wish. My mom and my two sisters returned, because K swore she would behave. Not long after my family lost our old house, and we moved into a new one, with the backyard fence I mentioned. I was hoping this was a fresh start, but before long the illusion popped. My mom and K began fighting again, worse than before. Mom hated K's boyfriend, R; K preferred R's family to her own flesh and blood. As a double agent, I did my best to stop the fighting, but I failed. One day, my sister came back high, leading to yet another fight. The thing is, this wasn't the first time she had been caught with weed. Lectures, therapy, anything my mom tried just made the fights worse.

On October 18th, K confided in me a plan: when my mom went off to work the next day, K would ditch school and come home to pick up her stuff, then leave with a prearranged ride. I, the good little double agent, and a worried big brother, told my parents.

This lead to October 19th, the longest day of my life. Four days away from my 19th birthday on October 23. But back to October 19th.

When morning rose my mom, "ignorant" of K's plan, tried to bring K to work with her. This was part of a bigger plan to isolate K from bad influences again, the next step being Arizona. K, truly ignorant of my latest betrayal and the bigger plan, refused to go anywhere with my mom. This lead to a standoff, with neither my mom or K giving an inch. Finally, K went upstairs, and after some thumping their was complete silence. Suspicious, I went upstairs to be greeted by emptiness. K was nowhere to be found. I went outside and looked at my house, and my suspicions were confirmed—K had lept from the second story window!

My mom and I, followed by summoned cops, searched despretely for K. We got lucky: We found her in a gated community. But once again K refused to go anywhere with my mom, to even reenter the house. Cops had to intervene. The three of us sat in silence, K and my mom smoldering. When my mom left went outside to, I begged K to stay. She had exactly two words for me: "Gotta bounce." She went outside and used a chair to leap over the backyard fence. While I begged her to stay, she jumped. The rest of the family and I went looking for her again, but this time we couldn't find her.

So that's my story. On October 19th my little sister K left. But I think emotionally, she was long gone long ago.