As the shiny black photo album was placed in my hands, I took a breath in and smiled. I was unsure what it would contain, but the curiosity got the better of me, and I lifted the first page to find out. In it, contained photos of someone very close to me, from when they were my age. Flicking through, I came across a photo of a small child, and suddenly I was transfixed. Completely and utterly enchanted by this little girl I had never met. As I gazed at her blonde locks and pretty brown eyes, I felt like I was staring deep into her soul, and as tears pricked at my eyes and threatened to spill over my lashes and run down my soft cheeks, I couln’t bring myself to look away from her.
I will never get the chance to meet her. For her broken body is no longer walking amongst us. She was only four. Four years old, and already dying. Her body was ravaged by cancer, and it was destroying her.
As I kept flicking through, I found more photos of her. Even with her shiny bald head, she was beautiful. Absolutely spellbinding. The chemotherapy had taken away her gorgeous hair, and yet she still smiled. And it was flawless. She wasn’t to know she was dying. She was just a little girl.
Little girls dream about butterflies and rainbows. They don’t dream about cancer and hospital, needles and sickness. But now, she is a rainbow. The most brilliant rainbow, that would take your breath away and leave you speechless.
As I write this now, the tears dare to return. I wonder what it would be like if she was here with me today. She would be the same age as I, if her battle hadn’t been lost. I wonder if we would fight like sisters, or be the best of friends. I wonder if we would have the same bad habits, and if she would still smile like she did. I wonder if she would be in remission, or would she still be fighting every day. We would do each others hair and talk for hours on end. For even though we have had our different battles, we would understand.
Ebony and ivory. The two of us, taking on the world.
My sister, not through blood, but still all the same. I feel like something has been taken away from me, yet it was never mine to have in the first place. I don’t quite understand this feeling.
I grieve. I grieve for her family and loved ones, and I grieve the hypnotizing brown eyed girl I never got the chance to meet.
Life is painful, but death.. death is beautiful. She will forever stay that beautiful, radiant child, pain free and at peace.
But I will not sob, and I will not weep, for as she watches over us from the big fluffy clouds she now calls home, I know that she will forever be my angel.