Aunt Sharie

Instructions

This is my Aunt Sharie Since my mom was single, I called her my 'other mom'. She meant the world to me, my everything, my sun, moon, and earth. Then, one night I woke up to her and my mom sitting on the side of my moms bed. I still slept with my mom, at that age. Anyways, I woke up and heard aunt Sharie say a small sentence I remember perfectly today, about 5 years after. "Marie... Marie I can't breathe..." I stayed still, one eye open, pretending to sleep. I don't remember the rest of the conversation, and I fell asleep soon after. I woke up to hear she was in the hospital, with an pneumonia. I didn't even know what that meant. I thought she just had a bad flu or a cold... About three days later she was allowed to leave, though the doctors told her to stay a few more days. She left anyways, wanting to come home. Life progresses as normal, save she has another three-day-and-back trip to the ER. Well, everything is fine, to me. Now, let me tell you some things real fast. When I was little, I always asked if people were OK when they coughed. It was like saying 'bless you' when someone sneezed, to me. Everybody was always ok, because its just a cough. So everybody, ALWAYS told me they were OK. Even if they were sick, "I'm ok, Desi". One night I walked by my aunts 'room'(it was really the front room with her bed being a fold-out couch bed) on my way to my mothers room for bedtime. She was coughing a good amount, so I asked if she was OK, like always, and expected a half-cough 'yeah'. She said, still coughing, "No". See, I was too little to know what to do, and thought about telling my mom. Then, I remembered the night she got my mom because she couldn't breathe, and assumed she would get my mom if she really needed help. That has been one of the biggest mistake I have ever, and will ever, make. I woke up that morning to crying, sobbing family members and flashing ambulance lights outside my house. Then, in that front room bedroom... There was a stretcher being carried out my front door, with a black sheet-looking thing laid over it. Aunt Sharie was not on her bed. She was, I hoped, being taken to the ER like last time. My mother told me something else. Something I can never stop thinking about and never stop hating myself for. "I'm sorry, Aunt Sharie passed away in her sleep" I was never the same and have not been. I am, even if I don't always notice it, affected constantly by her absence. My grades plummeted, my moral went down, my will to do anything was just gone. My jokes slowly became more and more of a protection in my mind to keep the self hate and regret hidden. I miss everything we did, little and small. I miss just saying good morning, good night. Hell, I would sell everything I own to give her a single hug and tell her I love her... I miss her, every day... I just... Miss her. I don't know why now is the day I decided to tell you guys her story, but... Please, do not remix. Please find another project with this song. This story, her story, is the most personal thing to me. My deepest pain, my worst and best memory at the same time. Please no stories of your own, I just... Need some support. As I get older it gets harder to remember her and I get more ideas of how I could have saved her... How I am the reason she is gone. How it's my fault... All of it... I just wanna tell her I love her, every single day. I just wanna look into eyes and tell her I love her more than anything else in this entire universe... Thank you so much for taking the time to read this...