by Davis Long

Being the youngest member of my family I have always felt I like needed the guidance and wise counsel of those older and wiser than me. I always could depend on my family for anything. Aside from my parents, my sister, Adrian, was the one in particular I held in high regard. She and I were close. Being only three years apart I always felt I could go to her for anything I was troubled with. She was the kind of person who was upbeat and always seemed to know the right things to say. These things were not always what I wanted to hear, but were still very much appreciated.

Since I wasn’t always able to see her in person, we would talk on the phone and text frequently. Every now and then I would go see her on our days off. On one of these rare occurrences when I was visiting with her, we were sitting in her living room. I was again going through a difficult point; we were discussing my recent breakup when in mid-sentence she vanished.

At first I was in shock and disbelief. I called out to her several times but with no answer. Did I blink and she ducked behind a corner? Did I black out? Did I really see what I just saw? I was obviously worried and terrified, as anyone would be given the bizarre circumstance. A few minutes passed after searching her apartment for her before I started to break down and cry. I was already feeling low and this wasn’t helping my thoughts or emotional situation.

As time passed it became clear that she wasn’t coming back. I had never lost a family member as close as my only sibling before and I was confused as to what was going on. How could this happen? Especially when I needed her the most. The feeling of yet another loss was too great. My sister, my friend, the person I look up to and the one who stays strong for me is gone.

Then out of nowhere I heard a voice as if it was spoken from someone sitting right next to me. “I’m here.” I opened my eyes and attempted to quickly dry my eyes hoping that I was just overreacting to a prank that was not the least bit humorous. But she wasn’t there. Then something came over me, a feeling, like everything was going to be okay.

Then in that brief moment I knew what had happened to her. She wasn’t dead but somehow, by some means, she shed this mortal world and escalated to a higher plane of existence. But why? I needed her here, her family needed her here, her friends needed her here. She was gone but for an instant I wasn’t sad about it. My thoughts turned toward comprehending this idea.

I notified my parents that she was missing but kept what I had seen a secret. For some reason it didn’t feel right to tell them the truth. I had moved back home to be with my parents to help them cope with what had happened to their only daughter. Several months passed after a missing persons report and investigation into her disappearance. Our parents, myself and a mass of people that held her to heart finally accepted the loss and decided to have a memorial service for her.

During these months and the days to follow after the service I continuously thought about the day she disappeared. It was forever on my mind and I had held high hopes that she would return with all the time that had passed. Deep down I still knew she wasn’t. Even though I was doing better, feeling like I was getting my life back on track. That thought sent me spiraling into an immediate depression and I once again broke down. The loneliness set in at the thought that I didn’t have my sister to turn to, to once again give me words of comfort.

With my head down and my heartbreak overwhelming me and while trying to keep my tears from consuming me; I called out her name. Then through the sounds of sadness and groveling, I heard it again, ”I’m here.” I looked up and I saw her standing in front of me with a warming smile. Those two little words let me know that she was home once again when I needed her the most.

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