I sniffle for the fifty thousandth time in a hour, curled up on my bed surrounded by blankets. My sister, beautiful and perfect, sits comfortably at the end of my bed, sighing and squeezing my left hand reassuringly. Hot tears soak the blankets around me, making me feel even more depressed. The tears tingle as the fall on my exposed skin and tank top, burning with sadness and regret. Why did he do this to me? 

"It'll be okay sis..." she whispers, voice soft but still audible. I shake my head furiously, squeezing her hand tighter and bury my face in my surrounding cocoon, hoping to strangle myself in the blankets. She knows what I'm doing though, and quickly unwrapped the blankets from me, tossing them on the desk chair near by.

She looks back at me, and for a split second I can see the sadness flash through her eyes, seeing me clearly for the first time since I started crying. My face puffy and red, cheeks tainted with tears that still flow, blue eyes glassy, heart broken.

My velvety red hair tickles the back of my neck, my pony tail messed up. We've been done for a while, but it still hurts. It hurts too much, almost too much for a human to bare.

"Sis...." she says softly, voice barely audible, and if it weren't for how much I needed my sister right now, I probably wouldn't have heard it. I look up at her, nodding for her to continue. And wipe my cheek with my long sleeves. No. His long sleeves. This was his favorite jacket, my Christmas present months ago. I loved this jacket just like he did, just like how I loved him. She glances down at it with a sigh, scooting forward and taking it off me, replacing it with her pink sweater, and even though I didn't want to take his off, I'm grateful for the warmth and memories that hers give me.

"I miss him...." I say with a bitter laugh, which comes out as a choked sob instead. She doesn't say anything, just squeezes my hand. She gets it. She understands. Even though she's my little sister, born a year younger then me but us both in the same grade, she understands me more then anyone. More than all of my friends, and at times, more then he did. 

"I know...."

"I didn't know what to do. I didn't cry that day we broke up. I don't know why I am now..... it's just I miss him. I miss everything about him. His touch, the simple yet sweetest kisses.... his voice, smooth but just..... especially when he would sing to me... I miss us being partners in dance class, and at lunch practicing alone but really just sitting under the window seal talking, just everything. I miss him." I say, wiping tears from my eyes, smearing my eye liner and mascara, getting it on her sleeves, but she doesn't mind.

"You don't need him though" She says, louder then before. Our parents are downstairs fighting like usual, and I start to wonder where everything went wrong. It went wrong when my dad caught my mom cheating, but decided to stay with her for us even though they're having problems. When he broke up with me, but with no reason, just a soft kiss placed on the innards of my wrists, a silent promise.

But I can't help but look at my sister and think that even with everything going wrong, she's still by my side. She's the one thing in my life that went right.   

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This is short. I felt like writing. I don't really know what to say... please comment. Go read my other stuff. But most importantly if you've read my other stories or are reading this one, thank you.