Life has always been a series of ups and downs for me. I came from a broken home, having to divide holidays between two households after my parents divorced when I was ten years old. It was a weird adjustment at the time, especially when I was just entering my teenage years. There are so many things you’re experiencing mentally and physically, and then throw in a divorce and it’s a perfect triangle of self-despair.
After what I had experienced with my parents, I made a promise to myself that I would never do the same to my children as they did to my sister, Evie and I. I wouldn’t have a child, only to have our family and lives fall to shambles.
Evie struggled with it the worst. We were sixteen months apart, so we were close, but we were polar opposites. I was the quiet one, where she was the one who was the life of the party. She began to act out as we entered high school and wound up in trouble more times than I could count. She blamed my parents for separating and remarrying, instead of trying to work things out and have our family be together.
It was the summer before my senior year of high school when we lost her. Evie was set to leave for college at the end of the summer and there was an annual party thrown at one of the lakes in town. She had just gotten into a fight with our stepmother and father that night and drank more than she should.
It was late at night and Evie had the great idea for everyone to go swimming. A few of the other kids agreed with her, but I begged her not to do it. To just let me take her home, where she was safe, but she refused. We were staying at our dad’s house that weekend and she told me she never wanted to go back there again.
That night, she got her wish.
Evie dove into the lake, not realizing that the area was shallow and there were jagged rocks just beneath the surface. Her head collided with one, effectively snapping her neck from the force. I watched her do it and then float to the surface, facedown. Everyone else was too drunk to realize what was going on as I dragged her onto the shore, screaming for help.
Losing her completely turned my world upside down. There were so many what-ifs that hung heavily in the air. My father never quite got over it, especially after the fight they had that night before she passed. He partially blamed me for not preventing it from happening, even though I had tried.
It rocked everyone’s lives and, to be honest, I’m not quite sure that any of us truly got over her death. I know I didn’t, and the guilt still consumed me from time to time. Maybe my father was right. If I would have tried harder, I could have stopped her from diving in. I live with that every day of my life, because not only did I lose my sister, but I lost my best friend too.
My footsteps are light and dread rolls in the pit of my stomach as I pace up and down the short hallway in my apartment. I glance at my phone, looking at the timer as it begins to count down from ten seconds. The anxiety runs through my system and there’s nothing I can do to control it in this moment.
The alarm begins to sound and a ragged breath leaves my lips as I silence it and slide it into the front pocket of my hoodie. I can’t believe this is happening right now—that I’ve gotten myself into a situation like this one, of all things.
My hand finds the doorknob and I slowly turn it as I walk back into the bathroom. I had it closed, as if that would really make a difference. Inhaling deeply, my footsteps are slow as I walk over to the counter. I close my eyes for a moment, wishing for it not to be what I think it’s going to be. As I open them, I finally look down at the plastic stick sitting by the sink.
My stomach sinks as my heart crawls into my throat. Two little blue lines stare back at me and it feels as if the rug is being ripped from beneath my feet.
I’m pregnant.
And alone.
The one thing that I never wanted to happen is happening. It would be different if things would have worked out between him and I, but they didn’t. He didn’t form attachments, and now I’m carrying his baby inside me. A baby that is going to be raised in a broken home, just like I promised myself I would never do.
A sob tears through me, the tears instantly springing to my eyes as I sink onto the bathroom floor. It’s been four years since Evie’s death and right now, I need her more than anything. She would know exactly what to say or what to do.
I miss my sister… my best friend.
But the only person I have right now is myself.
And August Whitley’s baby.
