“Honey? Please come in with us.”

I cross my arms and look away. My eyes fill with water. “No.”

She lifts her hand and strokes my hair. I pull away, and her sigh staggers. Don’t look in her eyes. Don’t look at her. I think this over and over again. I stare at the wall, at a picture of a sail boat. Jeremy loved boats. His wall paper is filled with sail boats. I continue to stare at the painting, and big lump forms in my throat. I feel my mom’s sad eyes on me. Luckily, she leaves, but not before she sighs again.

I walk without picking up my feet, over to the bathroom. I thrust past the sign that reads “Ladies”. I startle a women putting on an extra layer of lipstick (not that she needs more makeup than she already has). She jumps a little and causes to create a streak of lipstick across her cheek. She takes a paper towel, wets it, and dabs the red line off her face. As she leaves, she raises her nose, full of foundation, at me. What to the ever, lady.

Sauntering, I go over to the mirror. I stare at my reflection. My ponytail is messy like I ruffled it and used a blow drier. My green eyes are bloodshot. I used to wish that I had Jeremy’s eyes, which are light green with sparks of brown, but now I really don’t care. I just wish that Jeremy could come back.

As I gaze around the room, everything reminds me of Jeremy: a sink, where I taught him to wash his hands; a mirror, where he drew on my mirror, and I yelled at him; flowers, which I brought to him when he was sick, just before he died. I avoid looking at the cross, hanging up behind me. Jeremy loved the Bible. Some evenings, after dinner, I would bake cookies and read the Bible to him. His favorite story was of Daniel. Every time I opened sat down to read to him, he said, “Can you read the Daniel story?” He said he loved how Daniel was so brave. He especially loved how the angels “swooped down”, saving Daniel from being eaten by the hungry lions. The Bible is hard for a little boy to understand, so I would change it into easier and more fun.

I lock myself in a stall and sit on the floor. Unlike most bathrooms, this one smells fresh like it belongs to some rich freaks. It probably does. My hands tremble. I cross my harms, close my eyes, and my thoughts drift back to Jeremy.

“Sister, look at me!” Jeremy exclaimed. “Look!”

I laughed. “I see! Look how fast you’re running!”

He giggled as he ran along with the coil of string. The farther he ran the more string he let off. It was the beginning of March, the perfect month for flying kites. We were in the perfect place to fly kites, too. We were at the park. Jeremy ran a little further, and just when the kite was high enough to reach the run, he tripped over a rock. I watched him in worry. Luckily, he didn’t seem hurt, but his eyebrows rose as he stared up at the fly-away kite.

I dashed over to him, leaping up and taking a hold of the string. I wound the thin rope in, so the kite was lower. When I handed the kite back to him, he smiled. I grinned back. He jumped up and walked with the kite. His eyes twinkled.

“Sister?” he said.

“What?” I walked beside him and helped him make the kite reach different heights.

“This reminds me of somethin’.” He hesitated, watching the kite.

“What Jeremy?”

Jeremy took his eyes away from the colorful kite to look at me. “This,” he stated tentatively, “is like God and his persons."

I rolled my eyes a bit, but smiled. “How?”

He gazed back up, swinging his arms, so that the kite twitched back and forth. “Persons, um, what’s the word? To fly away?”

“Drift away,” I told him.

He glanced back at me. “Thanks.” Carefully, he stepped over another rock. “Yeah, persons drift away, but then God jumps up and catches them. He brings them back!” He turned his head back to me, and beamed radiantly. “Like you and Mr. Kite!”

I laughed. “You’re right!”

He winks at “Mr. Kite”.

I laughed harder. “I love you, little brother Jeremy.”

He hugged me. “You too, big sister Bridget.”
Unfortunately, he forgot about the kite. It waved goodbye in the wind as it rose up, up, up. Jeremy gasped and ran after it. It was too late. The kite already was just a dot in the sky. Jeremy hopped up and down trying to grab the kite.
“Sister!” he cried. “Sister, get Mr. Kite! Mr. Kite’s runnin’ away!”
Shaking my head, I put my hand on his shoulder and lead him away. I checked my watch. It was almost two o’clock.
He whimpered. “Sister?”
“Shh! It’s time to leave now. Come on.”
“But, but, but…”
I sighed.
All of a sudden, he started crying. “Mr. Kite! He’s gone!” He sunk to the ground. I sat beside him. “Where’d he go? Where’d Mr. Kite go? Bridget?”
My brain pounded with tons of different things to say. I picked out my words carefully. “Maybe Mr. Kite is happy, Jeremy. He’s free now, you know.”

He didn’t lift up his head from his arms. I gave him a quick hug.

“Jeremy, don’t worry! I’m sure Mr. Kite loved you, but now he’s, um, probably going to be with other kites…in a happy kite place! With balloons too!”

Jeremy hoisted up his small head. He sniffed. “You mean, you mean like heaven?”

I smiled. “Mm-hm. Right exactly. Like heaven!”

He wiped his nose on his sweatshirt. “See yah later, Mr. Kite!”

I slowly lift myself up and splash some water on my face. This is the worst month of my life! After what happened to my brother, my parents decide to have a wake! A wake! Where my annoying family who only saw my brother once can come together to joke and eat cookies! Seriously, if I see anyone smile, I’m going to punch their ugly face.

Why did this happen? Jeremy loved God, and He took him away! It wasn’t like Jeremy didn’t like God, and God took him away! He loved Him! Life sucks. You know what? I bet there isn’t a God! Some freaks probably came together and made up a really long book about a fake god! Then my poor brother actually believed them! I mean, I believed too, for a bit. God seemed loving and…nice. But now Jeremy is gone. Why did this happen?