lmarmelade:

To whoever feels like giving up on life, this is me and my younger sister, I’m the one with the red hair. She was smart, beautiful, talented, and she was a good actress. She acted like she was happy, she pretended that the pain she had wasn’t there. If you saw her, you wouldn’t know what was eating her up inside. She always had a smile on her face, she was always the happy one, she was always laughing. You would think that she would be the last person to commit suicide. I knew how she really felt about herself and about her life though. She was my best friend, every secret I had, she knew, and every secret she had, I knew. I saw her at her worst times, I’ve stayed up all night at times, just to hold her while she cried. I reminded her  how pretty she was and how highly I thought of her. Even though I had seen her cry and miserable, I always felt as if she was stronger than me, I always thought if it were anyone who would kill themselves, it would be me. On April 18th 2011, I came home from school and went into my bedroom, that day my sister had stayed home because she wasn’t feeling well. About an hour after I had come home I knocked on my sister’s door to ask her something, I can’t remember what, when there was no answer I opened the door and saw her there hanging. All of these thoughts started rushing to my head, I didn’t know what to say or do, I didn’t want to think that she was dead, I wanted to think that she could still be saved or whatever. I thought that if I held her long enough that she would come back to life in some magical way. .So I took her down and wrapped her in a blanket and held her, and cried over her. I kept showering her with kisses and begging her to please be alive. Her eyes were still open and no matter how hard I tried to close them with my fingers they wouldn’t close, and I would put my finger down under her nose to see if I could feel her breath, I couldn’t feel anything. I knew subconsciously that she was dead, but I kept telling myself she wasn’t, and I kept holding her, and I sang to her and told her stories and kissed her over and over again on her forehead. It felt like I was there, holding her, forever. But only thirty minutes had passed and my mother came in and saw everything and called an ambulance, all this crap went down, and they told us she was dead, and I started screaming and cursing at them, telling them that they were filthy liars and that they weren’t doing anything to save her. I think I was just yelling at them because I was angry with myself, angry because no matter how hard I tried to keep her from killing herself, she still did. And I wish I could have been a better sister. She deserves to have had a good life, and to have grown up and done everything she dreamed of doing. But at the same time, if I had the chance to bring her back, I know I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t because she would just be suffering. She would be absolutely miserable right now. And I wouldn’t want that. And I don’t usually like sharing this with many people, but I feel like if enough people who were going through hard times like her knew about my sister, they would understand how much I cared for her, and how much others care for them, and they wouldn’t feel inclined to do something like she did. My sister will never have another chance, but you do. 

(via -uhhleeseeuhh)