Amanda

She’s dead. Throat slit, Wrists cut, Mouth gagged. Dead. We took you into our home when you needed it. We helped you get a job. We saved you. As I tucked my little sister into bed, My 6 year old self climbed into bed next to her. I had a bad feeling. I thought I could protect her should something happen in the night. I thought I could save her from the thing that didn’t feel right. But I couldn’t save her from that morning. As I awoke, I walked in to check on my mother. Her bed was made, like she never slept in it. I checked the living room for her. Empty. I checked the kitchen. Empty. The dining room. Empty. I began to panic but when I opened the door to the closet, There sat my mother. I picked up the phone and dialed 911. “Mommy won’t wake up” I said and the lady asked me questions. “My name is Amanda Michele and I’m at home. She's in the closet and won't wake up.” As the uniformed man in my house covered my mother’s body, I saw my little sister in the doorway. I thought I could protect her when something happened in the night. I thought I could save her from the man that didn’t seem right. But my mother was gone My sister was only 2. She doesn’t remember my mommy now. And she won’t accept that it’s true.