I believe fear is the best teacher.  When you’re standing in the face of fear you are able to learn new things that you wouldn’t be able to learn without that emotion. Some of the experiences we go through are good, others are not, leaving us battered and scarred. My moment is the latter.

On the bus one day I had noticed that my older sister was in one of her “ignore-the-whole-world” moods, a common sight in these days. Once we got home, my sister went straight up into her room, slamming the door so hard the house shook, and finishing the show with locking her door. Growing worried and nervous, I crept to her room and timidly knocked on the door. As minutes passed my little knocks turn into angry thuds, my worry giving away to aggravation. One my sister opened her ugly brown door she surprised me by flinging her arms around me; squeezing until I couldn’t breathe and stars appeared. With her arms circled around my shoulders and her breath tickling my neck she quietly whispered, “I love you”. Now don’t get me wrong, we always say I love you to each other but this one felt different, like it was a goodbye. Insane thoughts of my sister leaving me began whirling around in my head, making me grip onto her waist even tighter. After our little moment of affection, she shut the door in my face, stunning me in even more.

The hours trickled by and my parents arrived home, but there was still no sign of my sister. Even though she hadn’t come out of her room in a while, I wasn’t worried. Most days she stayed in her room, hiding like a hermit crab from all of humanity. When mother went to get her for dinner and she didn’t answer, we finally began to grow anxious.  As panic began to blind our judgment we choose the extreme decision of breaking down her door. The sight inside my sister’s room was one that burned into my innocent memory. Her skin was sickly white and clammy, sweat building up on her forehead and soaking her beautiful brown hair. With the empty bottle of pills standing on her desk, my sister’s intensions began to show. In the rush of pure fear my mother called the police sobbing hysterically the whole time. “911?! WE NEED AN AMBULANCE! MY DAUGHTER OVERDOSED! COME QUICK!” In a matter of minutes the screaming blue and red sirens of the ambulance were lighting up our whole driveway, awakening all the neighbors and making our situation even more real. Before I knew it my sister was loaded in the van and whisked away, out of my reach.

In that moment I wasn’t scared or upset, instead I felt a blazing hot anger pulsing through my veins. I was infuriated at my sister for trying to face all of her problem all on her own and failing. I was furious at God for trying to take my sister away from me, but most of all I was angry at myself. I knew something was wrong so why didn’t I speak up? She was supposed to be able to trust me with anything, and I let her down with her most valuable prize, her life.

The fear that I experienced in this moment really taught me not to take precious moments with the ones I love for granted. It has been two years since my sister tried to overdose, and now we are closer than ever. The sad and lonely girl that had taken over my sister has vanished and has been replaced with the bubbly and kind sister I grew up with. I believe that fear is the best teacher.