When Laura Reed turned thirteen years old,
her sister, who was five years her senior, had been diagnosed with lung
cancer. Laura expected that it was her sister's fault entirely. Theresa
had been smoiking for three years and during those years had a job where
she worked around those that smoked.
When they were kids, up until the point where she was diagnosed, Theresa
and Laura had always made an argument out of who was going to outlive the
other. Those arguments all stopped when the diagnosis report came back,
of course. It became clear that Laura had been right all those years, and
she was going to outlive her sister.
Within months, Theresa became very sick and started spending many nights
in the hospital. Laura would walk the long distance every night until
midnight. On one such walk back from the hospital, everything was dark
and the streetlights weren't working well. All Laura was thinking about
was her sister, and she constantly had the subject of her being outlived
by the younger sibling. It was logical, but she didn't like it anymore.
Laura would cry and cry whenever granted time alone; this happened often
on these walks home from the hospital.
In the past few weeks, Theresa and Laura became the best of friends and
the closest of siblings. This was a problem for Laura as her sister got
sicker with time. She worried everyday in school and everywhere that
wasn't Theresa's hospital room that she had died. And as they grew to be
even better friends, the thought only got worse. That walk home kept
getting longer. Except for one night, when it was exceptionally short.
It was New Year's Eve and very late at night. Anyone who was driving the
roads at night wasn't likely driving sober. This was so proven when Laura
crossed the street about a half a kilometre from the hospital. A small
car going at unnecessarily high speeds whipped around the corner and
struck Laura head-on. The impact winded her and broke five ribs, but the
windshield triggered blood loss and and her heart stopped when the car
sent her into the concrete. The car drove off and the drunken man didn't
even step out. Probably didn't notice.
Theresa Reed died three days later, possibly of the grief and only
partially from the cancer. When she heard the news of Laura's death, she
didn't say anything. She didn't say anything for the rest of her life.
However, she wrote something. Something that was embossed in her grave
stone the day before the funeral:
I was so sure that I would outlive her,
And she was so sure that she would outlive I.
Now we both lie equal, side by side,
For I was dead, the day she died.
