I Didn’t Mean It

    I stand at the foot of the grave, deep into thought, wondering what I was thinking during those last 24 hours. Those 24 hours that changed my life, made me who I am today, and I regret it. Candle wax is dripping on my hand now, but the pain is dismissed by the memories that I have of her. Staring into the flame that is dancing on the tip of the candle, I get lost in it, and flashback to those 24 hours. The 24 hours when everything happened. What happened to me, and to my family. I didn’t mean for it to happen.
    “Alex. Can you come down here please?” I paused the game, and made eye contact with my sister. “Am I in trouble?” I asked while putting down the remote. She was holding back a smile, but says, “Good luck loser.” I got up, and starting walking towards the door. As I was leaving I mumble, “Not funny.” My mom was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs holding a box, and she had a huge grin across her face. After realizing what was going on, I ran to my mom, and gave her the biggest hug ever. “No way! Thanks Mom. I can’t believe you got me these!” I opened up the box, and but on the new, red and white, Jordan brand basketball shoes, and started to break them in. In a whisper my mom added in, “I’m getting your sister some also. So you guys can be matching.” I smiled, and ran back upstairs to show Tatiana my new shoes. When I came in she was already smiling and looking at my shoes, “They look good homie. Nice shoes.” I threw and pillow at her to show her that I was thankful. “Yeah I know, these are my new favorite shoes. I bet no other 12 year old has these shoes.” I sat back down, and started playing the game with her again. After a little while, mom called us down for dinner. “Isn’t it time to take off those shoes,” she joked. “I’m never taking off these shoes. Oh and I heard Mom is getting you a pair too. For your birthday. But you didn’t get that from me.” She smiled and exclaimed, “That’s awesome! I can’t wait till I’m 15 next week! I’ll finally get my permit.” “Alright enough about you,” I said with a smirk, “Race you downstairs?” We both sprinted downstairs, and the aroma of Mom’s famous meatloaf hit us like a brick wall, and we floated to the table under the spell of the meal. I sat down, and started to chow down on the meatloaf. My mom hit me in the back of the head and scolded me, “We haven’t even said our prayer yet! Are you crazy?” “Sorry,” I mumbled. Tati started laughing, and then we all stood up, held hands, and said our prayer. Mom started to ask us how our day at school went, and we answered with the ordinary, “Good.” “Hey Tati, can you pass me the gravy,” I ask. She tried to give it to me and it spilled all over my pants and my new red and white Jordans. The whole house grew quiet, and everyone’s eyes were fixed on my shoes. I became livid, and started to yell at her, “What is wrong with you? You know these are my favorite shoes! You did it on purpose! I hate you!” I didn’t mean it. She started to cry, and started to apologize, but I cut her off, and ran upstairs. I went into our room, that we shared together, took all my stuff out, and moved it into the guest room. “Alex, I’m sorry. I really am.” Cutting her off I yell, “You’re not my sister anymore. I don’t care about you!” I didn’t mean it. She stood there in shock, and I walked out. “Goodnight Alex.” While laying on my back, thinking about how sincere she was, and how she cried. I wanted to apologized. Closing my eyes I decided to apologize first thing in the morning.
The next morning I heard my mom, and Tati yelling, which woke up, so I got ready for school, and went downstairs. “You’re not going to the party after school. I’m sorry honey. You’re gonna come straight home.” Mumbling and whining she came over to me, “Alex, can I borrow your new shoes? They match my outfit.” Infuriated that she’d even bother asking for the shoes SHE messed up, I started to yell, “Are you kidding me? So you can mess them up again? Wow, right when I thought you were sincerely sorry. Don’t talk to me ever again.” I didn’t mean it. “Fine,” she yelled as she stormed out the door to the bus stop. We stood at the bus stop in silence, and when the bus came, we sat on opposite sides, and at opposite ends. Everyone on the bust noticed the tension, and my friend Tyler asks, “Hey man, what’s up with you and Tati? You guys are never mad at each other.” I answered with a cold stare, and dead silence. The school day was miserable, and no one talked to me. I felt bad for being such a jerk to Tati, so I decided to apologize. When the bell rang, I headed to the bus stop, waiting for Tati, so I could apologize. She passed by me without making eye contact, and she was walking with Jenna, her friend who was hosting the party. “Tati,” I called after her, “Mom said come straight home, c’mon you know better.” “Why would I want to come home to an a------ brother like you,” she screams. I heard my heart break and started to cry, “Fine, I don’t care! Don’t come home! I never want to see you again!” I didn’t mean it. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. She started towards me, to give me a hug. But Jenna grabbed her, “C’mon let’s go start the party. You better not snitch Alex.” The ride home was lonely, and I cried the whole way. When I got to my front door, I wiped away tears, so my mom wouldn’t ask questions. I walked in and immediately she asked, “Where’s your sister, and why were you crying?” “Tati went to the park to play basketball, and wouldn’t let me come,” I said, trying to cover her. She hugged me and mumbled, “I told her to come straight home. I’ll deal with her when she gets back.” I sat down on the couch and started to watch TV. A hour later the phone rang, and I yelled for Mom to get it. She picked up the phone, and I instantly started to eavesdrop. Mom’s face turned from relaxed to worried, and she looked like she was about to cry. “Are you sure,” she forced out the words.  She hung up the phone, crumpled to the floor, and started to cry. I ran over to her, and kept asking what’s wrong. “Your sister-. She’s been-. She’s been shot Alex. She’s dead,” she started to bawl, and I hugged her, and comforted her.
    My sister was shot by a drunk 15 year old boy in the back by a shotgun. It hurt that the last words I said to her was, “Don’t come home! I never want to see you again!”.
    I come back to reality to just see a dancing flame on the tip of a candle. My hands sting from all the wax that’s draped over them. I look down to my feet, the red and white Jordans, they were not worth driving my sister away to her death. I kick off the shoes, and throw them as far as I can into the lake nearby. I blow out the candle, and say my goodbye to the best sister ever. “I didn’t mean it Tati. I didn’t mean it.”