My sophomore year of college my sister tried to commit again. I remember the first time she tried and the way my parents heart broke. I remember their screams, their tears, the way the never were the same. So when she sat in the back of my car the second time and unloaded all her pills into my hands and said “because of you I won’t kill myself tonight” and then left for her friends, I wasn’t sure if I could tell them. She told me where the notes she had written were and told me to hide them. She said if I ever told my parents she would go through with it. I came home and found the notes, I told my parents it was bad again and then hid the notes just like she told me. We never spoke of that day again. My bf at the time was in the car when it happened. He and I recently talked about that night and the way it changed us. I’ve never forgiven my sister for that night or for the first time she tried to commit. I know it’s wrong of me not to forgive her but I’ve never been the same and nobody’s ever noticed. I hate going home now because I’m scared something with happen again and she doesn’t even live there anymore. Life just doesn’t feel the same.