Forti glued her tired eyes to her computer screen as her fingers went flying to finish an assignment. She emailed her teachers that her sister died, and they were all willing to push their due dates by a week. There was no time to mourn, not when she had to succeed. She was still alive. She had to ignore her sister. Just push it down for now. There will be a time and place. Tomorrow, when she attends the funeral.

Then she sighed deeply. It probably became a habit.

One click and her assignment was submitted. She leaned back as far as her desk chair allowed, but instead of feeling satisfied, her head swam in present and future homeworks, projects, and tests. She got up, stretched a little, and went to the kitchen to grab a yogurt cup. No time to take a break, not when she received a failing grade on her exam. She needed to find out what she did wrong and study, study, study. 

After staring out the window for a few minutes to rest her eyes, she ate some large spoonfuls and began looking over her mistakes. 

Why was she so stupid? How could she get this wrong? How could she have overlooked that part? She got so many points off for that one thing! At least she knew what she did wrong now. Checking over notes, she realized why. She learned how to not make those mistakes again. She got better. She had to get better. 

She slapped her computer closed and leaned back on her chair, looking up at her ceiling with dull eyes weighed by sickishly purple bags. 

She got better now. 

She should be fine.

Learning it now doesn’t fix my score.

Why couldn’t I just have known it more before?

Why wasn’t it me?

Forti threw an arm across her eyes, becoming aware of her breathing. She wiped a stray tear, but her sight blurred thickly. 

If she had picked up her sister from the exam, her sister wouldn’t be gone. If she was a better daughter, her parents wouldn’t have to go through this. If she was there, she could have shielded her sister. She should’ve been the one to die instead. Why her sister? Pahth, answer me.

Hot tears rushed like liquid fire down her cheeks to her chin to whatever surface it fell on. Pahth, why did you do this to me? Why did you do this to my family? She stood up and fled from the space, uselessly escaping a malignant pain that followed. A festering anger boiled in her blood, and she couldn’t bear to live. 

I should go to sleep, she thought. I don’t want to think about anything. Just sleep. Brush my teeth and sleep. Go to sleep. 

Mechanically, she walked to the bathroom, just across the siblings’ bedroom. The sound of running water and her eyes staring dead into themselves numbed all thinking. 

As she dipped herself into the soft embrace of her bed, thoughts surged in forceful waves, lapping on her brain. 

“Vasi.” Forti choked out in a whisper. The nickname of her sister, muttered to the air. Wyver was passed out in his bed, an exceptional deep sleeper, so Forti didn’t have to fear him or anyone overhearing, free to wallow after the world had tilted off its axis the moment Vasi was taken from its surface.

She remembered riding bikes through the park with Vasi and Wyver when they were little, their old dog Fiden chasing and barking after them. 

Fiden. Dear, lovely Fiden. 

Forti comforted her younger siblings when Fiden passed away, holding them in her arms tightly while she cried on their heads. 

Fiden was such a good boy. He protected us fiercely, even from the birds. Especially Vasi since he knew she was the youngest, always following her wherever she went. At least she won’t be alone up there. 

A bittersweet smile arose. Forti sobbed harder.

When Vasi climbed a tree and couldn’t get down, I was so angry at how dumb she was being, but that was because I was worried she would fall and get hurt. Wibby laughed like a maniac though. I should have smacked him, but I was climbing that tree before I knew it. It seemed so tall, like I was climbing up a building. Probably because we were so small back then. 

When we got back on the ground, I remember carrying her on my back. I could feel Vasi’s warmth, her weight, her breathing against my ear. She blew in it to tease me and I said I would drop her if she didn’t stop. She laughed. I never realized how pretty and refreshing her laugh was, like rushing water down a shallow stream, tumbling over rocks and plants. If her laugh was a river, it would be filled with fish and animals. Never boring or barren. 

I don’t know how long I carried her, but it was long enough that my arms hurt and I had to keep bouncing her back up. I got scratches on my palms from the bark, and they hurt a lot. I got so many scrapes and cuts as a kid. 

Jugo, Kaylix, and Vosé were trailing around us that day. This was when I was ten and Vasi was six. I remember another time we all played a little too roughly in Whistle Park – we always played too roughly – and Vasi tripped and sprained her ankle. She cried so much, but in our walk back to the barbeque, or I was walking and she was lounging on my back, she was already cracking jokes and giggling about something else. 

I piggybacked her a lot, didn’t I? I don’t remember what we laughed about. 

I remember I was worried the whole way about how badly I was going to be yelled at by mom and dad because I wasn’t watching her properly. I wonder how all those people are doing now. Kaylix, Jugo, and Vosé. Are they happy? After elementary school, we all went our separate ways and haven’t seen each other since. Childhood friends gone like the wind, even though we played like the day would never end.

A clogged nose stirred Forti from her reminiscing. Her pillow was utterly wet where her head laid and so she sleepily raised herself up to get tissues. Her eyes were puffed and stung as if salt was sprayed on them.

The memories burst out in relentless fireworks, and although she was standing in the dark, reluctant to lay back down, she was blinded by how brightly they exploded, swept away in a parade of her own unintentional making, and she couldn’t leave until it was over. 

Forti recalled Vasi preferred to sleep on her stomach and enjoyed fried chicken with garlic butter. Vasi once acted as a lark in a school play and got in trouble for being too wild and unrestrained. 

She cried when dad tried to pull out her loose tooth because she was afraid of the pain, only to stop once he showed it was in the palm of his hand. 

She had a crush on five boys in one year. 

She wanted to be an astronaut, a scientist, a psychiatrist, and then the director of the Diapo. 

I offered to work on her art project with her and let her copy one of my drawings she liked, but she pushed me away and said she wanted to do it on her own. 

When she studies, she tilts her head to one side and gets neck pains from it. 

She was so excited for the ValorA exam. She snuck into my bed that night and we talked in hushed voices that she’ll be alright and no matter what the results end up as, she’s still amazing and smart and intelligent and talented. Then Wibby joined in, saying we weren’t being quiet, but we knew it was because he couldn’t fall asleep either. 

She wanted to go by herself and didn’t want mom or dad to pick her up, planning to meet friends after the test was over. 

And now Vasi will never come back home. 

She will never become the Diapo director or hang out with me and Wibby and mom and dad again. She won’t try to sneak into my bed anymore or wear my clothes or steal snacks from me or play games or be ridiculously annoying. I’ll never get to give her another piggyback ride. Never know what she’ll look like at my age, at our mom’s age, or older. If she’ll have kids or get a dog. If she’ll explore the world and have a steady job.

Was she happy? Did I make her happy? Did she pass away peacefully? Was she scared? Was it painless? Please Pahth, swear to me that she died painlessly. Please, please, please, please, please let it have been painless. Was I a good big sister? No, I was awful. I’m sorry, Vasi. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry– 

Forti wished that she could pass out.

In the liminal time between midnight and early morning, Forti stirred to a presence by the open bedroom door. It was her mother, coming in to wake the children. 

The family changed into their mourning clothes. After she finished dressing, Forti sat on her bed, limp like a doll, and then took the chance to roam her small home and carefully look at family photos. To think she only spared glances at them before, numbed to the normality of being with four other people she saw everyday, never imagining one of them would be gone. The pictures with her sister were especially radiant.

The journey to the funeral was silent. A moonless sky hung above, and shadowed valleys flushed with trees reigned below. The omnidirectional lights of the car brightened the way, underlights dimmed so as not to perturb whatever lived beneath. Forti stared out the window into the abyss. Sleep pulled her eyelids down, like a soldier putting their comrade to rest, and she slept for another two hours.