Today, at lunch, I will sit with my brother in complete silence as the rest of the school points and whispers. Today, when I come home, Mom will be crying on Dad's shoulder in the living room, and my brother and I will walk past them without noticing. Today, I will close the door to my room and lay on my bed, wondering why I'm alone. Today, I will hear the tortured cries of my brother through the wall next to my bed. Today, I will stare at the other side of my room and begin to sob, because it will forever be empty.
Two years ago, today, my sister took her life in the river she was named for. Two years ago, today, my mother sobbed as she told me her body was missing. Two years ago, today, my brother didn't come home until late because he had watched my sister jump and struggled to save her. Two years ago, today, my brother became an empty shell. Two years ago, today, I watched my family fall apart without realizing I was losing myself as well.
And so, tonight, my brother and I will sit at edge of the Miren River on the West side of town. He will lead me to the spot he saw Miren go under, and we'll stare at the water waiting for her to come back up. She never will though, and we'll sit in silence wishing that we had saved her.
"Kemen," I'll whisper, "Tell me what she said."
He'll sigh and fight back tears. "She looked me straight in the eyes," he'll murmur, "She said she was the same as the river. She said the river hurt those around it just like she did. She said no one loved the river and that she wanted to soothe its pain. She said maybe then it could be like its twin: sweet and calm, like Esti, like honey. And then she jumped in."
And then we'll both be crying in silence, watching the current rush past us. We'll cry because it had calmed since she jumped in. Then, we'll start yelling at it, but it won't give our sister back.