May 16, 1996

Background Knowledge: ( Sadly this is a true chronoliogcal event written from my olders sisters perspective, I am Muroo) 

May 16, 1996

It was a normal Day

No one saw it coming

No one KNEW

We were playing in the backyard

Him, Me

He understood me

I understood him

He was my brother

I was his sister.

I had just jumped down from the swing, when he said that he had to go.

I begged him not to; we were having so much fun.  

He just smiled at me and said that he would be back. He promised.

I BELIEVED

Minitues, seconds, minutes, all passing

Where is he?

I start to walk following his direction, when suddenly; I heard the desperate screams of an innocent child, and then the screeching noise of a car driving away.

I start to run,

Fear, desperation, all building inside.

But then, I stop…the road

There’s something…a..a…a….

NO it can’t be.

Nothing could have prepared me for this moment, because there, on the middle of the road, laid a helpless seven-year-old boy, motionless on the dark, cold pavement.

At the time I was so young, that all I could believe, hope for, depend on, was that He was playing, faking, joking around, but when he wouldn’t get up,

DEATH became inevitable.

May 17, 1996

Sisters born, sisters born, SISTERS BORN

One lost, another comes

Too fast, too soon

I thought people are supposed to be happy, HAPPY

So when they all tried to forge an act of joy, well in the end, I didn’t have to ask why we looked the way we looked. I knew.

We all KNEW

I looked at my mom, holding her in her shaking hands, holding tight, desperately trying, trying to smile a real smile, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

Nor could I. Not when they tried to force me to hold her, not when they tried to get me to smile, not when they just tried.

So it was silent, no one said a thing.

Some attempted, but so depressed, confused on how to react, that their voices eventually died along with the smiles.

I looked at my father, forging his own smile, desperate for someone to say something, anything, but no one did.

Sorry, Sorry

It’s all they said,

Like it helps

But what could they do?

What could we Do?

May 18, 1996

They called her Muroo

It means Brave