I’d wander into Mallory’s room. Times like that, she wouldn’t tell me to leave. She’d take her comforter and put it over our heads like a tent that protected us from the fighting, and she’d use her phone as a flashlight to light up a book. She’d read it out loud until I fell asleep. She made it better.
Now, she’s gone.
She isn’t here to make it better.
I reach the sidewalk and abruptly turn the corner, aiming for the gas station at the end of the block.
The silver building stands out in the fog with its bright neon signs. I weave through the cars parked by the pumps and head for the door. A little bell dings when I step inside, and I march right up to the deep freezer in front of the check out.
I peer through the clear lid at the ice cream flavors even though none of them sound appetizing. Chocolate with fudge in the middle was always my favorite, but the idea ofsliding the lid open suddenly seems too hard and my arms stay lifeless at my sides.
My mom hated sweets and they were never in the house.
“Can you keep a secret?”
I can still hear Mallory’s voice in my head. The soft words she spoke when she came into my room after I’d been crying.
She took me to a gas station, similar to the one I’m in now, and started our tradition of getting ice cream every time I was upset.
I felt like Mallory was creating something special between us. I’d never had a secret we shared. I didn’t think she had any, to be honest. She always followed the rules, but she was willing to break them for me. That was special.
“Are you going to get something?” the cashier asks. His blue vest is crooked and he’s sitting on a stool reading a magazine. “Or are you just here to stare at the ice cream again?”
A tear spills over and a sob bubbles out of me. I’m angry for crying like I failed at being okay, but once the tears start, I don’t know how to stop them. I can’t dam them up or stop my nose from running.
“I’m sorry,” the cashier says, setting down the magazine. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ve just been in here a lot so I was trying to make a joke, but it obviously wasn’t a good one . . .”
I try to wipe my tears, but it only makes it worse, rubbing my mascara into my eyes.
I let out a rough, staggered breath because I don’t want ice cream. I want my sister back. She’s the reason I liked getting ice cream in the first place because I felt closer to her.I felt like it was one of the few times where we bonded instead of clashed.
“Please stop crying,” he says. “Look, just take an ice cream cone. It’s on me today.”
I want to. I want to take it and let it fix my problems, but I know it won’t make a difference. No amount of ice cream can mend my life.
My stomach twists from the thought of forcing myself to eat the ice cream and I run out of the gas station. I take a deep breath to settle my nerves and droplets fall onto the top of my head.
The rain caught in the clouds above me has finally broken free. It starts with a sprinkle and then showers down, soaking me from my bangs to my feet. My shoes squeak as I find myself walking alongside the road again.
My bag drags on the ground as I trudge aimlessly around town. I can’t go back to school. I can’t go home. I’m trapped.
I don’t know how long I walk for, but the light starts to fade, and like I'm on autopilot, I end up in front of the bridge.
The bridge where Mallory died.
4
EMMA
Did it hurt when she fell? It had to.
The Oakland bridge isn’t very far from our house, and it isn’t heavily trafficked. It’s an older bridge with stone walls on either side instead of a typical railing, and it crosses the shallowest part of the river.
I place my hands on the wet stone wall and pull myself up. I’ve done this many times before. I sit down, letting my legs hang over the edge, and watch the water rolling over the rocks. She couldn’t have survived the fall. The water is too shallow. You’d have to jump perfectly to not hit one of the rocks poking out of the water. And yet they didn’t find her body. The only logical explanation is her body was carried downstream. It probably settled down at the bottom of Oakland Lake, but even after scouring every inch, they never found it. To this day, her body hasn’t surfaced.
My lungs constrict and I gasp as I sob, sitting in the rain because I feel like I deserve to be miserable.
I was a horrible sister.
