Sometime into my junior year of high school, i was in a relationship with this really cute guy. A lot of girls liked him and pretty much everyone knew who he was. I, of course, felt like I was swept off my feet with the way he treated me and practically spoiled me, so nothing else really mattered. In my mind I was happy and living my dream. My sister never liked him and I noticed whenever he came over, she’d shy away and lock herself in her room. I would make fun of her and say she was jealous of me and him and say she just can’t stand the fact I’m with this hot guy. One night she had approached me and asked if we could talk and I said yes. She told me I needed to break up with him because he was a terrible guy and I could do so much better. During the course of that conversation, I kept cutting her off and never giving her the chance to actually speak. Finally I told her to get the f*** out and called her a b*** for commenting negative things about my relationship. She went missing for 2 days and on the third day, she was reported dead for overdose in her car 5 miles outside of our town. She had taken her school backpack with her and inside were letters addressed to 8 people. Most were her friends. One was for my dad and mom. And one was for me. She had been sexually assaulted by my boyfriend- now ex boyfriend- as well as a majority of other things. She had claimed that it was only 1/5 things she had killed herself for, but to me it felt like it was the main thing she had killed herself for. That day, that fucking day, the last day I would ever see her, she had tried talking to me. To tell me something tragic had happened to her and to look out for me. I miss her everyday and being her sister, I feel responsible for her death because if I had just opened my eyes and listened, maybe she would have been alive.
