Memories

Packing. When you see people packing up things in boxes, you think that they're moving to a new house. That's not the case here. My family and I are not freaks. We're packing for what they think is an important reason. It's a tragedy. My lovely, amazing, inspirational 9 year old sister. Her name was Gabriella.
We all miss her so much. We wish she was here. My parents are making us pack up all of Gabriella's things. "Mom, we shouldn't pack up Gabriella's things. We should put some in my room and the family room to remind us of her. You don't want to forget her, do you?" I tried to explain. My mom and dad can be stubborn sometimes. "Guys, I understand we all miss her. But we don't need to take her life away from us." I said. "Carly, I understand what you're saying. We'll do that in a month or two. We're just not ready yet. Give it time." Mom replied. I'm surprised that she didn't call me names like "honey" or "sweety". She does that when she trying to nicely explain why I'm wrong.
Some how it seems like I'm always wrong, and everyone else in the world is right and rubbing it in my face. I never was a generally sad person, until now. My sister was three years younger than me so we could still talk. I guess I like being twelve. It's not so bad.
It seemed like my whole world crashed down when it happened. My mom and dad are just as devastated as I am. Now my only sibling is my other little sister who's only three years old.
My parents decided to take a break from packing boxes. I was going to take a break too, but I just noticed a drawer that looks kind of mysterious. My parents left the room. I walked over and opened the drawer. I expected something exciting. All I saw was Gabriella's diary. I opened it. As soon as I looked at the first page, I knew that it was no ordinary diary.
It had writing, like most diaries. What was different was the way it was written. She was only nine and her writing was amazing. I can't believe none of us ever knew that she had a talent for writing. I guess she kept more secrets than I expected. Here's what the first page said:

Dear Journal,
Life is an amazing thing. In our family, I'm the lucky one. I may have Cancer, but I have high spirits. Nothing will bring me down. Carly came in to see me today. This hospital room is so bland. White. I see white everywhere. Nobody knows about this diary. I guess it's better that way. There are many people who kept special secret things. After they died, people discovered their secret things and the person became famous. Maybe I'll be like that. Carly wasn't herself. She seemed awfully sad, she almost seemed depressed. That made me feel awful. I didn't want to make her upset. I didn't tell her. If I did I would make her feel worse. I knew things weren't going well at home. Mom and dad act the same way Carly does. If I had friends they would miss me. I don't understand why I'm such an outcast at school! I'm way more kind and gentle than those mean, popular girls. I guess that's just the way it is.
If you asked me to tell you somebody I really loved, I would say either my best friend, my mom and dad or my sister. I love them all. My best friend has always been there for me. Like they say, 'your best friend is the one who stands by your side when everyone else has left the room.'
I find love to be important. It's just- important. There's not another way to explain it.
I recently read Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Patterson. I felt awful for the main character Louise, she was also called Sara Louise and Wheeze. She only had one friend. I have one friend and my sister. Carly and I are very close. That's not Louise and her twin sister Caroline's case. Caroline is beautiful and talented and everybody loved her. Louise felt neglected. It seemed like nobody cared about her. Everything went Caroline's way. Her only friend Call ended up marrying Caroline! She never talked to him again. Everybody did good things for Caroline and didn't even think about Louise. I'm glad the ending was happy, even though Louise never made up with Caroline; she never talked to her again. I'm very thankful that my life is better hers was as a child.
I'm afraid for my family. Why? Because unlike me, they're afraid of death. Of them dying, and even worse, of me dying.
~Yours, Gabriella