Just One Year(23)

I took a deep breath and exhaled until there was no more air left in me. “My little sister’s name was Emma. She and I, we were thick as thieves as toddlers. We were only one year apart. Even though I barely remember her, I have little glimpses—enough to know she was really there and I really loved her.”

Despite the tightness building in my chest, I continued. “My parents left us with a sitter one afternoon. We were four and three years old at the time. The two of us were typically easy kids to watch. We had each other, so we just played together.”

Teagan clung to every word, a look of fearful anticipation on her face. She nodded silently.

“We had this toy chest, a large wooden box my mother had inherited from her grandmother.” I closed my eyes briefly. “I thought it would be funny if I emptied out all of the toys and my sister got in while I closed the lid. Then she could jump out like a jack in the box. And we’d laugh about it. We had so many toys inside that the chest always remained open.”

Teagan blinked faster as she seemed to understand where this might be going.

“I assumed I’d just be able to open it and let her out after a few seconds.” I swallowed. “But once she got in, the heavy chest locked, and I couldn’t get it open.”

Teagan gripped my arm as I closed my eyes. There was no turning back now. I had to tell the rest.

My voice cracked. “My sister was kicking and screaming, and there was nothing I could do because it was just…locked.”

Teagan squeezed my arm.

“I panicked—ran to find the babysitter. Because we were supposed to have been napping, the sitter had gone outside for a ciggy. I screamed and screamed until she finally heard me and came back in.” I paused. “We ran back upstairs, and she couldn’t get the chest open, either. By that time, my sister had stopped...” My words trailed off.

She squeezed my arm again. “You don’t have to say it.”

Feeling exhausted, I nodded, accepting her permission not to continue.

We sat in silence for a bit until I said, “There’s no way of predicting when something will trigger the memory. That scene in the movie obviously did it. But I’ve seen similar things before and haven’t had a problem. For some reason, I couldn’t control my reaction today.”

“I completely get it now.”

“I try so hard to block it out and not think about it. Even after years of therapy, it’s not something I can get over.”

Teagan looked into my eyes. “I know on some level you know this…but it wasn’t your fault.”

I’d heard that before, but I could never accept it.

“I closed the lid. I told her to get in. Even though I didn’t intend for her to die, I caused it. It was my idea, and so it was indeed my fault, Teagan. It wasn’t my intention, but it will always be my fault.”

She seemed at a loss. How could anyone argue? I couldn’t blame them for trying, but the fact that I’d caused my sister’s death was not up for debate.

“For the longest time as a child, I wasn’t able to look at photos of Emma,” I told her. “Part of my therapy was to learn to tolerate it. I would sit there and cry and suffer through every agonizing second of having to look at her beautiful smile, realizing I had caused the end of her. I was never able to handle it outside the therapist’s office. Eventually, my mother gave in and took most of the pictures down. I only hope wherever Emma is now, she can forgive me.”

“Did you stop therapy?”

“I went from the time I was five until around twelve. It got to be too expensive. But I’m starting to think going back might do me some good.”

“It’s not really something you get over, I would imagine. Just something you learn to live with,” she said.

I nodded. “It’s not just the loss of the person, you know? But the lasting effects on those left behind. My father resents me, whether he realizes it or not. He’s always treated me terribly, and I believe it’s because on some level he can’t forgive me. He knows it wasn’t my intention to hurt my sister, but he can’t see beyond what I did. If I hadn’t made that stupid decision, she’d still be alive. And he can’t let that go. Neither can I.”

“I’m sorry to hear that about your dad.”

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to make it up to him, but it’s never good enough, because nothing I do can bring my sister back. He avoids me mostly, distances himself from my mum and me, in general.”

“Are you and your mother close?”

“Yeah. My mum’s great.”

“She must miss you.”

“She does. But she checks in a lot. Coming here was as much about escaping the situation with Dad as it was experiencing a new place. Here, I feel wanted. As much as my mother loves me, I just don’t feel wanted back home because of my father.”

Teagan continued to look at me, soaking all of this in. Bless her for being such a good listener and dealing with this crap tonight.

I forced a smile. “See? You thought you were the only one with issues, Teagan. You were so wrong.”

“I don’t think there’s any comparison…”

“Exactly. I’m much more fucked up than you.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant—just that we’re fucked up in different ways.”