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I remember everything about her.
Her pale skin, her curly blond hair that was always a tangled mess. Her big, blue eyes that looked up at me with adoration every time I was with her. Her missing front teeth that made her whistle when she talked.
I remember the way she made me feel. Like I could do anything, because in her eyes I was unstoppable. I was invincible to her. I could do no wrong. I was her hero. She didn’t see my mistakes. She didn’t see my sins. She just saw me, her Big Brother.
I remember everything we did together. The day she was born, the day she said my name, the day we all went to Cedar Point and she threw up her blue slushy all over my shoes, the day I got my driver’s license and took her to get some ice cream.
I remember the day she died.
I was the one that found her. I was the one that lost her. I was the one who couldn’t help her when she really needed it. I was the Big Brother that failed her when she needed me the most.
My parents, the police, and I were scouring the city. I took down town. I kept shouting her name, and I kept not getting an answer. I was panicking.
I stopped my car in front of a club. It was abandoned, the door nailed shut and the windows covered up by boards.
I just stared at it. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t look away. It was drawing me in. Like it was trying to tell me something.
I called my Dad and told him where I was and that he needed to come now. He promised he would and I hung up. I got out of my Jeep, and started to pull the wooden boards off. The wooden was digging into my skin, and blood started seeping through the cuts. I gritted my teeth and stuck to it. I had to find her, and I knew she was in there.
I pulled the first one off, and started onto the second. My hands felt like they were being stabbed over and over in different spots and blood was now dripping from them. I didn’t care. I just had to free the door.
After the last board was pulled off, and I plucked a rusty, iron nail from my left hand, I took a deep breath and opened the door.
There she was. She was sleeping in the middle of the room, bathed in sunlight from an opening in the ceiling. Her tattered, white dress barely covered her body and her hair covered her face. But, I was so happy she was here. I ran over to her, scraping my knees as I hit the floor.
Tears were running down my face and I whispered her name. I brushed her hair out of her face, and ran my fingers over her cheek.
It was cold.
Then, it all hit me.
Her tattered dress, her cold face, her twisted body.
I found her too late.
I felt like I was in a night mare. My father was suddenly next to me, weeping. I heard the distant sound of sirens. But I was just looking at her face.
Dead bodies are supposed to look peaceful. But hers didn’t. Hers was twisted, like she was grimacing in pain. My hands shook, as I realized what happened to my sister. I lifted up her skirt, just to see if I was right. I didn’t want to be right. I prayed that I was wrong.
Blood. All I saw was bloody parts of my sister. There was a pool of it between her legs. I dropped her skirt, and turned to my Dad.
“Raped.” My voice was hoarse. He turned to look at me, his eyes bloodshot and wet. “She was raped.” My father went back into his hysterics. I just turned to look at her, and tears fell out of my eyes.
My seven year old sister was raped.
Rape. Rape. Rape. Rape. It was the only thing I could think about.
I was now at the memorial. My father wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. My mother was making her bed a place of residence. I was the only one here for her. And I couldn’t show her mangled body. I’ll never forget the way she looked.
My family cried. My friends tried to comfort me. Her teachers, her friends, all crying. My sister was loved. And some son of a b**** took her away from them. Away from me. I was going to find him. And I was going to kill him.
I said my thank yous, and I gave a short speech. To be quite honest, I don’t even remember her memorial. I just remember being in a fog and people and colors and words swirling around me. I don’t even know what I said. I don’t even know if I was coherent. But I didn’t care.
There was one thing I was certain of.
I would avenge my sister. Someone was going to pay for this. Some one was going to lose their life for this. I would make sure.