He trudged up the stairs of that rickety, old wooden house. The stairs were just like the rest of the house: the wood was moldy, the paint was chipping off, and the stairs were just barely slanted. He could not believe what had happened. Running his hands through his brown hair, trying to add everything up, his older sister came up behind him and every so quietly placed her hand on his shoulder. She gives him half a smile as she brushes her hair blonde hair behind her ear and passes him up the stairs into the house. With each step he takes up those slanted steps, the truth becomes elevatingly real. He finally reaches the door, already ajar from when his sister entered and he slides in and closes it behind him. The door makes a “thud” as it closes all the way, like all old doors do in old houses. He can hear the faint noise of his sister crying in the other room. He could tell she was holding it all in until she was alone. She always was so strong for him, no matter what. He drags his feet, room to room of the trinket sized house to find his sister sitting on the sofa in the living room.
He decides it is his turn to be strong for her. He marches in front of her and gives her half a smile and takes his place next to her on the sofa. He engulfs her. She collapses into his shoulder and her cries were no longer a faint whimper, but not quite a full sob. He sat there, and held her, until eventually her crying turned back into a whimper, and that eventually turned into less than that until she had cried herself to sleep. He remained there motionless, trying not to wake his sleeping sister. Sooner than later, he too fell fast asleep.
         When he awoke, he rose from the couch and checked the old clock on the mantle to see the time. 9:00 am. That was much longer than he had expected to sleep there. He wandered to look for his older sister. He ended up in the kitchen, with a note saying that she went out to the store and that she would be back in an hour with breakfast. The note was timed at 8:00 am. He went through the house and looked at all of the pictures up on the walls. They seemed to be everywhere. Room by room he saw pictures of drawings done by Her in elementary school, family photos and even a picture of his two sisters and himself. He removed that one from the wall and almost began to cry when his eldest sister walked through the door with some basic groceries and their suitcases that they left in the car the night before. He took the picture out of the frame and carefully placed it in the pocket of his dress pants that he had fallen asleep in. He brought the frame with him on the way to the kitchen to be put into a box for later. After all, that is why there are there.
She hollered that she was back and immediately began making breakfast. He walked into the kitchen and retrieved their bags and took them to what was the old guest room down the hall. He was to sleep there and his sister was staying in Her room across the hall. He placed his bag on what was going to be his bed for the next few months and turned and went back into the hallway to put his sister’s bag in Her old room. He made it as far as the door frame to the room, but could not bear to even touch the doorknob. His head slunk so that his eyes were now fixed on the floor. He turned and placed his back on the wall next to the door and fell to the ground with tears dwelling in his eyes, the loud thunk of himself landing on the floor caused his older sister to come see if he was okay. It was her turn to be strong for him.
She came to him and sat next to him, in the most lady-like fashion with her dress on from yesterday’s event. They sat in the silence. Soaking it in like a sponge. The smells of Her house, the memories of the very short time She lived here, all of the times She had come to them, the values and morals that She stood for… The events of the day before hit them once again. The older sister decided that there was to be no more mourning. She would not have wanted them to mourn. The older sister stood up and helped him up as well. The sister decided that she cannot sleep in Her old room, and that she would stay in the room with her brother. They are both adults and nothing would be weird by them sharing a room like when they all were children. She put her bags in the spare room with her brother’s and they both went back into the kitchen for cinnamon French toast and orange juice.
After breakfast was finished with and the dishes were cleaned and put away, they got to work for exactly what She had asked them to come and do. She did not want her parents to see the way things were left in Her house. Not any of the pictures on the wall, not the carpet that needed to be vacuumed, not any of the knick-knacks that She had collected from Her worldwide journeys. She only wished for them, her older siblings, to see it. She believed that they would be able to “hold themselves together longer and better to clean up her mess once again, just like great older siblings do” as her note had stated. It was up to them to clean out the whole house and all of its belongings and to make sure that each belonging is received by the proper people when all was said and done. With the will in hand, and the will to what they were about to do, they set foot to a whole new adventure. An adventure that She had left for them as a way to connect with one another, spend time with one another, and create new memories with one another even if the circumstances for this particular meeting was the
She had made it very easy for them to clean out the house, both of them had thought that it was going to be a daunting task because She had never been someone to let things go. But no, She had planned for all of this to happen exactly as it did. She had planned everything out to a science, almost. When She wrote Her note, she stated that “you would know exactly what goes to who” and “if there is anything that either of you two want, you have first dibs.” When they first started, they had no idea what they would encounter over the next few weeks of packing up Her things. They finally understood what She meant. Every object that She had a specific home for was labeled on the back with a piece of tape with the person’s name written on it. This was a side of Her that they had never seen before. Organized and collected, it looked like She knew exactly what She wanted to get accomplished and set out and got it done, for once in Her life. They were both so proud of Her for that. She had only been gone for a few weeks, and Her ceremony was not too long ago now, but She had struggled for so long.
They cannot remember exactly how long She had struggled. It was for far too long. Her life had become such a messed up story. From the medications and from the drinking. She always knew when it had gone too far. She would call one of them to have them admit Her into the clinic where She would go through horrendously long meetings.  “Improvement sessions” She would call them when She was allowed to make calls and talked to them. But they both knew what She was doing in her “sessions.” When She finally recovered she would be a better happier self than they had ever seen. But sadly, that would only last a few weeks. One time it lasted a whole two months. Then She would relapse. She would go back to the same old parties, and “hang out” with the same old people as before. She would promise that She would not do any of “that stuff” like She had once before. They only believed Her after the first time She came out of the clinic. But each and every time, without fail, She would slowly withdraw from the world. And the next time they would hear from Her, it would be Her asking one of them to take Her into the clinic to, once again, help Her break Her nasty habits.
But this last time was different that the times before. When She did in fact relapse, She did not call one of them. She called their parents and told them that She knows She normally calls Her older siblings, mostly because their parents were slightly ashamed of Her, but this time She needed Her mom and dad to take Her in. “To make sure it works this time,” their mother had told them on the phone after she had dropped Her off. None of them knew it was going to be the last time. None of them wished it was going to be the last time. But that is not all entirely true though.
In the final days as Her older siblings packed away her house and all of her belongings, they finally could breathe lightly enough to talk about Her, and everything that She had meant. He believed that she was in a better state now. She was purged of Her “bad habits” and no longer had any uncertainties of how the rest of Her life was to follow. The older sister did not understand how her brother could say such things about his loving little sister. She began to understand what he meant as they went to finish the last room of the house. Her room.
It was unbearable to do so, but when they went into Her room they found even one more astonishing thing. It was already cleaned, boxed away, and all that was left to do was take Her bed apart and box it away. Even now that She had passed, She was still full of surprises. Another thing awaited them, as they took apart the final piece of the bed and placed it against the wall, they found a few pieces of notebook paper and a pen. As if they had been set there on purpose, as if under Her bed was a desk. The letter was as followed:
Dear older siblings,
         As hard as all of this may be to everyone and especially you two, I want you to know that what I have done was not in vain. We all know that I had not been mentally well. And that lead me astray from a once very bright path that I was on. I tried and tried again to become that person I once was, but with no prevail.  So I made myself a commitment: I shall no longer cause anyone the harm I am choosing to cause to myself. I refuse to put you two through what I have been putting you two through for years and years. I have now, at the age of 26, realized that I cannot destroy your lives, or anyone else's, anymore. You will now both tell each other that I never ruined either of your lives, but I cannot agree. I have caused a certain helplessness in them for far too long. I have taken far too many turns to try and heal, and now I present to you your turn to heal. Take one sessions of mourning, but end it promptly. I don’t want people to mourn over me. Then take your chance to heal yourselves. This will be a new life for both of you. One with the freedom to never have to worry about me and my struggles any farther.
I want you both to know that I no longer struggle with any “bad habits” and I shall never again need to call to have someone take me away to try and help me to get better. I am truly in a wonderful place now and do not let anyone tell you otherwise.
Please tell mother and father that I love them tremendously and tell them not to worry about me anymore. I am far better off where I am now.
Thank you for helping me all of these years. You have been over-the-top caretakers, even when I knew I did not deserve any caretaking at all. I love you both more than you two shall ever know.
With all of the love one little sister can give to an older brother and sister,
Rosie