The Parade

It was the day she, my older sister, tried to kill herself. And all I could think about was missing the parade. I was angry.I remember sitting in the hospital watching the music video for the song "I Want Candy" and it made me even more mad. I had been so excited about sitting on the edge of the road, watching as the badly-decorative and uncreative floats glided by me at a pace almost slower than walking. I had brought a grocery bag to stuff all my goodies in until I could eat them later. 1

I remember sitting in class watching a movie and hearing my name called over the loud speaker to come to the office to leave. The anticipation bubbled inside me as I got my stuff and headed to the office. I knew Mom had picked me up early so we could get a good parking space to see the parade from. I could barely keep from running as my feet jumped around wanting to dart here and there as I picked up numerous multi-colored candies. 2

I then left the office with my mother and got in the car. I was suprised to see my dad inside because he should have been at work but I simply shrugged it off. I threw my stuff into the back of the car and held on tight to my bag. I could practically feel my heart leaping out of my chest with a young child's excitement.3

Then, as my mom slowed down in front of the high-school, confusion settled into my brain. I looked up into the rear-view mirror to see Mom looking back at me before my attention was drawn to the double doors of the building being opened. I watched, even more confused as my sister. Kally, was lead out of the building by her principal and another man I guessed was a teacher.4

She started struggling and got away from the men. Mom jumped out of hte car followed closely by my dad and a whole lot of screaming ensued. I had no idea what anyone was saying and I wanted to get to the parade already. I went to open the car door and tell Mom to hurry up but a police car pulled up beside our car and I knew I wasn't going to the parade.I watched as Kally finally calmed down and climbed into the back of the police car. Mom and Dad got back into our car and the principal went back inside. 5

We drove out of the high-school parking lot and followed the police car with my sister, an unknown cop, and an man I knew as Officer Roger inside for over an hour. Mom and Dad said nothing but kept exchanging their grown-up looks and never unclasped their hands. I asked once about the parade and my little brother Kyle but no one answered me and I shut-up.6

I waited patiently for a while but soon I was wishing my brother was there. I wanted to be smarter than someone and not be the only one left in the dark. I wanted someone to tell me what was going on more, though. I did, always have, and probably always will hate feeling stupid or uninformed.7

But finally we got to the hospital and someone explained to me what was going on. I never liked hospitals and that one made it even worse. We spent the next two weeks going back and forth between there and home. I disliked every-time we got in the car and drove the long drive up there and waited for visiting hours and sometimes even to be turned away without Mom seeing her other daughter. I hated how we weren't allowed in her room or to see her some days. I hated the look of the place.8

Then, finally after what seemed like long time to me, she was released and we drove her home. We had packed her stuff into the trunk of the car and she climbed in as silent as ever. The ride was no different than any of the others; no one spoke and no one dared to.9

I never treated her any different that I originally had. I thought of every little comment I could and made sure it escaped my mouth. I was mean and nastier than ever before. What did I have to be ashamed of? She had made me miss the parade and had made Mom cry. 10

The next few months were spent in therapy some private sessions between Kally and the shrink and others with the whole 'family' that we hardly were anymore letting alone the act that we never were really anything that could rightfully be called called a family more than what an outsider could guess. These sessions were mostly silence from us and questions from them. It all ended in the refusal to take meds on my sister's part and the additional ones on my parents'. 11

Now Kally tells me she had never meant to kill herself. She says it was just and overdose on medications she had taken from the medicine cabinet. She was and probably still is an addict and expects me to believe this. I play along but I'll never forget that conversation we had that very morning waiting for the bus to arrive. Maybe she did, or she doesn't think I remember, even-though I don't think I'll ever forget it. Maybe I just dreamed it up but it all seems way to real to be something I imagined.12

We were sitting on the sidewalk at the bus stop and it was just the two of us for once. I remember her pulling a bottle from her bag and looking up as the contents in it rattled. I asked skeptically what it was and she showed me a pill bottle. She pulled the lid off and showed me what was inside. There were so many multi-colored pills inside so much like the colors of the candy I was so angry about not getting. I recognized some of them from our medicine cabinet. Some were my mom's blood-pressure medication, some were my dad's anxiety pills, and some more were just over-the-counter pain killers. Some of them I didn't know, however.13

I asked her what they were all for and why she had them. She told me, her voice perfectly normal, just as I saw the buss coming up the street that she was planning on killing herself that day. I stood for a moment and turned before climbing on the bus. I turned once more to face her and simply said "Okay." She told me not to say anything to anybody and I replied with the same uncaring "Okay" as before. I went to my seat and thought nothing more of it until recently. 14

I know she tells me it wasn't on purpose that day that she almost took all of those pills. She says it was accidental because she knows the thoughts that sometimes run through my head and the things I think of when I don't realize people are noticing. But she doesn't know that I fully remember that conversation and that Mom told me she never got around to gulping them down because a friend caught her. I know she was trying to reach out to me. I know she wanted me to tell. She wanted help and was too afraid to ask for it. But I was to self-centered to care.15

I hide from that everyday and it never will stop seeking. I was too damn worried about my sister's life to want to take one minute to tell her it wasn't okay to take them and that it would be alright. I too much of a little bitch to care enough about someone to lie so they wouldn't think that no one cared.16

Sometimes I deserve to die.