The Dark

There are many things in this world that we fear whether it's something supernatural, the unknown or losing someone we love. Ever since my second sister Guadalupe passed away, I have been terrified of the dark.

It all started 10 years ago. On March 3, 2000, my mom gave birth to my sister Guadalupe. She was born in Denver, Colorado, at the General Hospital. My mom was happy to see her, and so was my dad and I. Then the doctor told my mom and dad that my sister had a problem in her heart and in her brain, and that she wouldn't live for too long.

He said it was better to just leave her at the hospital. We were all sad, crying, hugging one another. The doctor also told us that we had to baptize her right away because she did not have much time.

The following day we had her baptized at the hospital. There were 8 people in the room and my sister. The priest, her 2 godparents, the doctor, my parents and myself. The room was small, the walls were colorless and the 2 big windows on the side. The doctors had my mom dress my sister up in adorable little pink dresses. They took a couple of pictures of her in them.

Later on the doctors told my mom and dad we could take her home. They really disagreed to let her go, but my parents just couldn't stand seeing her there around machines and doctors. Everything was going perfect because she had been with us for 3 months already. We even started doubting what the doctors had said about her dying so soon.

Suddenly one day it happened! You know that feeling you get when you sense something bad is going to happen? Well that's what happened to me. I was nervous, shaking and just felt sick to my stomach, I knew something bad was going to happen. That day was cloudy; the sky was gray. It was a sad day.

My mom, dad sister and me went to Home Depot to buy some wood. My mom was holing my sister in her arms. She had her covered with a warm, pink blanket. My mom kept checking on her to see if she was OK. Then she was going to check again to feed her, but she noticed she was pale and cold. My mom cried, and I ran to get my dad. We rushed to the hospital, but the doctors gave us no hope in her coming back. She was dead.

We did what we had to do. We had a funeral at our house. All our family and friends went. They were all coming in the house with flowers and hugging my parents crying, telling them how sorry they were. There were around 50 people or more that day. We all just sat down praying and looking at my sister in her small white coffin in the living room. I just left to my room and cried.

That night after everybody left, I tried to get some rest. No matter how much I tried to fall asleep I couldn't. All I could do was stare at her crib and imagine her sleeping in there or just crying in the dark. She had a Minnie Mouse crawling doll in her crib that if you touched it it moved.

Then I noticed she started to crawl. I was so scared. So I got the screwdriver my dad kept in my room and walked up towards the crib and pick her up. I opened her and noticed a battery was missing. I knelt down to the ground and cried, wondering if it was a sign. That maybe she was still with us. I ran to the living room to go be by my sister's side. Everything was dark, then I heard her cry and I turned and glanced at her and it was as if her eyes were open half way, I started to shout, "She is alive!"

My mom and dad came running to me and picked me up and held me close to them. I told them what happened and they cried too telling me she was gone and not coming back. Then I tried to sleep in my room, but I couldn't, so I slept with them from that day forward and up to now I have to use a nightlight.

The next day early in the morning we got ready to go bury her. Again family and friends joined us all wearing black- such a depressing color. When that was over my parents noticed I wasn't OK. So my mom and dad got me a psychiatrist for a couple weeks to help me with my sister's death. She never did.

One day she left to another state. And I was left the same.

Alone in the dark room with so many memories.