I never really realized how much she’d affected my entire life, my day to day. I never really appreciated it when she’d bug me to let her braid my hair or tie my shoes. I always looked at her so nonchalantly because I knew she’d always be there but that wasn’t true. I didn’t know that when I hugged her goodbye that morning, it’d be our last. I didn’t know that a stupid heart attack could take her away. Why couldn’t it have been something I could blame it on? Like a drunk driver or something. It was natural causes, and what my older brother would soon say “probably those Krispy Kreme donuts.”. How could everyone pretend to be fine? Were they not looking at everything in this house and weeping at the sight of it? But I couldn’t say that not while my sister was the one in the spotlight. She was the one who got coddled by our extended family, the one who got sent Pete the Cat cards, not me. I had to pretend to be less sad than her, but I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. 
It was the day of her funeral, id hardly slept last night because Dad needed my help getting Grandpa an Uber to pick him up this morning. I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror above my dress, I looked horrible. The bags under my eyes could hold everything inside Trader Joe’s and more. I looked like all of my life had been drained out of me and quite honestly it fit how I was feeling. I grabbed my things for the shower and as I did, I could hear Melanie, my sister, talk on the phone with her friends about the party she planned to attend after the funeral. I know we all cope in our own ways but seriously? Whatever, I had no time to waste on getting a headache over her. The dress I bought from Goodwill (It was the only place I could afford with my paycheck.) had so many wrinkles it almost matched my dad’s forehead. I put it on and all I could think about was that she would say I ought to wear a dress with no wrinkles. But I couldn’t touch the iron knowing she was the last one to use it. It made my eyes tear up just thinking of it, but I had to wear it. I had to be strong for my dad, he needed me today. I heard him yell, “EMORY LET’S GO!” which meant I had about 30 more seconds to find my flats. 
Mingling before the funeral felt like a performance, I couldn’t be too happy or too sad. I had to be exactly right. Melanie was doing it effortlessly and I dreaded sitting next to her, which I realized was right now. We had gotten in line to view her before the ceremony, and as I was in line just behind Dad my stomach dropped. She looked so dull; her eyes no longer had that special sparkle in them. She didn’t look like my mom, she looked like a dead person. And it hit me for the first time ever. Like really hit me. She was dead, I had no mother. She was gone. I covered my mouth as I began to feel nauseous and ran to the bathroom. I pushed so many people out of the way it began to feel like a maze. I cried over the sink, and I looked into the mirror, and I saw myself for the first time in ages. A girl without a mother. Melanie walked in saying,” You were supposed to be the strong one for me, y’know?. I could see she was hurting but the only thing I felt was red hot anger at that moment. I didn’t even realize I had begun to ball my fists up as I said, “Can you just not make me feel like sh*t for one moment? She was my mother too. She didn’t just love you.”. I felt a breath I didn’t even know I was holding slip out and I looked at my sister as I saw her exterior fall, she was hurting just like I was. So, we sat there on that bathroom floor for God knows how long crying into each other. And at that moment, we were just two scared little girls who wanted their mommy.