Moira was always the one who kept me going.
When Liz broke up with me that summer of Fifth grade with a text message saying, “im teribly sorry 4 your lost. I was such a good gurlfriend” , I immediately went over to Moira and cried my heart out.
When I was finally ready to accept that Liz was nothing but a dumb pretty face because apparently it was so obvious to everyone but me, I asked Moira to teach me how to move on and she gave me the largest tub of Ben and Jerry’s she could find.
When I was terribly in need of a guy friend because I felt the urges coming, Moira told me to have a regular stock of baby oil and tissue on my bottom drawer while she listed the sites I apparently needed.
Moira has always been there for me, no matter how far she got away when she went to College. No matter how busy she’s been with her academics, and with her three boyfriends.
So when I tried calling her one night, distraught and full of anxiety for unknown reasons and she never answered, I just knew my sister won’t ever be there for me anymore. And I didn’t know how to keep going.
Her casket was closed when it arrived home.
I wanted to see her; I wanted to see my sister because no matter how much I try to wrap my head around the fact that she’s really gone, I just couldn’t. I think I couldn’t because I wouldn’t.
Mother said it would just haunt me forever, seeing her lifeless instead of the Moira who was always so full of life. I said it wouldn’t, and that I just needed to see her. I need to, I shouted, and my mother broke down in a heap.
My father came over, held my mother while shaking his head at me. I knew my family was hurting, but I loved my sister the most, I needed her the most, and no one would understand it. I felt so alone then. I needed Moira.
When nighttime fell and everyone was asleep, I tiptoed towards her and opened the lid, and screamed at the sight in front of me.
Her face was battered beyond recognition, her limbs detached from her small body, held by black ribbons to hide the evidence of amputation. She was all patches of black and blue, her blue blue eyes clouded with lifelessness. This wasn’t my sister! I need my sister!
I screamed and screamed, even when people surrounded me. Even when my mother hugged me, racked with terrible grief, I still screamed. I screamed at the monster claiming to be my sister. I screamed at the shadow rising from her lifeless body. And I screamed when it smiled at me.
She was moving quite slowly, tiptoeing as to not disturb the silence of the night. Her mother has long retired to bed, her brothers and sisters purring gently through the night. I must get to that beautiful ball of light; I feel that it is my destiny to get there, she thought with fervor, aggressively caught on the urgent desire to find out that which has caught her attention.
The dark was cold, the wind uninviting against her thin layer of fur, but the silence that enveloped her soothes whatever disquietude that threatens to snuff out the fire driving her to reach the pinnacle of her dreams. The moon was shining down in silvers, highlighting the shadow that moved against her. She thought it was good company, as well as the dark silhouette that reminds her of the bright future awaiting her.
The trees moved, whispered psithurism as if asking her to stay for a while. And she thought, why not? If only just for a moment, I could rest. And she walked under the canopy, with the night owls hooting down on her- scared guardians of the nights that scouts the forest of any danger. And she rested for a moment, and the moment passed and she thought it was enough rest, and she bid goodbye to the trees and the owls and they asked her, what’s the hurry?
And so she answered with passion, that she must get to the big ball of light, for that is where she is destined to be. And the tree shook, as if in fits of laughter, and the owls hooted furiously, but then bid her goodbye and wished her luck on her journey.
So she moved once more with renewed vigor, chanting to herself that she would soon get there and not to give up. But then a dog walked langourously, stopped on the pavement and stared straight at her. She bristled with fear for her kind hated them and she wasn’t sure she could take on a Terrier that big. But the dog called out to her and asked her, where might you go at this hour child?
And so she answered, I must get to that big ball of light, sir. I feel like it is my destiny to get there.
And the dog laughed, and said, Is that so? And then let her passed with a smirk pasted on his face.
She traveled with increasing weary but she forged on, the picture of the big ball of light keeping her from giving up on the road she has started to take on.
When she got hungry, she chased a mouse which pleaded for his life but her hunger won out and gripped her with that one track mind of wanting to stay alive.
At last the day was breaking out, and she felt bone weary for walking for so long, and she was ready to give up and think that maybe it wasn’t really something so important; that maybe it was just a product of her mind brought about by the monotony of lounging aimlessly, walking back and forth, keeping the simplicity of their routined lives.
But alas! There was that big ball of light, rising majestically, illuminating whatever its rays touch. And she felt happy, but her tiresome body collapsed on her and her last thought was, I should have just stayed where my mommy wanted me to be.