“Aden, you’re next,” my teacher, Mrs. Hasskil called from behind her desk. She had on her reading glasses and was reading something on her desk. Mrs. Hasskil was the nicest 3rd grade teacher ever. She always wore a smile and a brightly colored dress. Today she had on a nice ‘Spring’ dress to fit the season.
I walked to the front of the classroom, with my autobiography I’d written in my hands. In my head all I could think about was what I really wanted to say, which isn’t what I’d written.
My name is Aden. I’m 8 years old. My sister, Olivia, is 6. My sister has cancer. She’s going to die soon. This will be her last Spring, and our last Spring together as a family.
That’s what I wanted to tell everyone; that was the truth; but I couldn’t, so instead, I stood straight in front of the dry erase board, held my paper out in front of me, and read it to the class.
“My name is Aden. I am 8 years old. I’m in 3rd grade. Mrs. Hasskil is the bestest teacher in the whole universe. I live with my mom, dad, and sister, Olivia, in a big yellow house. I love to play baseball with my dad. Baseball is my favorite sport. I hope this helped you earn a little bit more about me.”
Everyone clapped. “Great job, Aden. Thank you,” Mrs. Hasskil said.
I sat back down. Today was the last day before Spring Break.
Mrs. Hasskil let us go out for an extra recess at the end of the day. We walked down the hall o the backdoor and out to the playground. I walked slower than usual; all I could think about was Olivia. She was somewhere deeper down in the hall in her 1stgrade classroom, having her last day of school in her entire life.
Outside, on he playground, I sat down on the bench by the school building. I didn’t feel like playing. So instead I just put my elbows on my knees, and rested my chin in my hands. I stayed in that position for the rest of the day, until he bell rang.
The bell rang and I grabbed my backpack from the bench beside me and walked inside and made my way to Olivia’s first grade classroom. Olivia was waiting for me, her back against the wall. Her pale face lit up in a smile, just like it always was.
“Come on, Livy,”I said. I grabbed her hand gently with my own and walked her to the exit. Her hair fell out a few weeks ago and now she had to wear a brown wig. It wasn’t as pretty as her original hair.
We walked outside and I led Olivia to the curb where mom was waiting in the car patiently. I opened the door to the backseat and Olivia got in. I hopped in behind her and took the seat next to her. Then I reached back to get my seatbelt and buckled up.
We didn’t live very far from the school. We drove up the street and turned a few times before pulling into our driveway. Home-sweet-home, I guess.
Spring break was slipping by quickly, and so was our time with Olivia. We tried to make these last moments memorable. And we tried our hardest not to cry, for Olivia's sake.
One day, we went to the park. I was swinging on the swings, mom and dad were sitting on the bench, and Olivia was out in the field picking dandelions.
I swang higher and higher and then jumped off, landing in the sawdust. After that, I went down the slide a few times, until my jeans were nice and dirty. Then I went over and sat on the bench between my parents. All 3 of us were sad, but we covered it up the best we could for Olivia.
And I will never forget what happened next, for as long as I live.
We watched through watery eyes as Olivia walked over to us. She was holding a boquet of dandelions in her hands. Then she stared at us with her big blue eyes and said, in a weak voice, "Don't cry, it will be okay. The angels told me that I will be happy in heaven, and Nana will be there with me." Then she blew the dandelions as hard as she could, and the 4 of us watched the seedlings as they were carried away by the wind, into the distance.
Olivia died in the hospital 2 days later. Even though she was the one that died, I feel like there is a part of me that died with her.
I'm sad, but I'm not worried about her, because I know that whereever Olivia is, she's safe and sound with the angels and Nana.
© Copyright 2016 Nicolelovesya. All rights reserved.
Book / Horror
Short Story / Romance
Short Story / Horror
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