She left me with nothing.
I always knew my sister's life was harder than mine. My mother was always harder on her, she never did well in school, never had a relationship for more than 3 days, and barely had any friends. Not only this, but she blamed herself for my father leaving. Although this never made any sense to me, I never got to ask her why.
Last night, my sister killed herself.
Untill now, my sister had been my diary. I told her anything, everything, and she never told a soul. But I always knew she was listening. I never noticed those emotional scars until she showed them on her skin. I will never forget my mother's screams, my sisters blood all over her face and hands as she tried to revive her. Her first born.
Usually when people kill themselves, they leave a note, or at least show signs of it. My sister never acted any different. But people don't make last minute desicions like these, do they? This drastic? All she left us was this:
I'll miss you. But I can't say I don't want to go.
This is where any normal person would start the search. But instead I brace myself, and go back into the bathroom, where we found her. As I walk into the room, I find it surprisingly clean. I guess the police have done their work here.. I look eveywhere, and finally I find it. My sister's favorite book, "A Thousand Miles", is sitting next to the shower.
I open it up, and find a note. My sister was always looking for a mystery.