Rose in Open Diary

I used to pick my sister up and we’d ditch school to go to the beach. Even after I moved out, I’d pick her up and take her to school so she wouldn’t have to ride the bus. I’ve picked my sister up from sketchy trailer parks at three in the morning and seedy motels at three in the afternoon. I picked her up at the airport when she came to visit me after I’d moved away. I picked her up at the hospital and we both cried on the way home when her newborn baby had to stay a couple more days. Today, I picked my sister up for the very last time. In a box. Wrapped in an emerald velvet bag. If you need help with drug addiction, please reach out to someone. You may feel like your friends or family do not care, but I struggle to draw every single breath knowing I will live the rest of my life without you.