There Is No Forgiveness For Those Who Are Already Dead

I had once loved my sister, for she was the only one who seemed to understand the pain, the only one to know what it was like to be alone, to be afraid, to lose someone. But she betrayed me just the same as those before her, leaving me alone, going to a realm that I could never bring myself to follow. She was the only one I allowed within my walls, the only one that I could share everything with, the only one who was on my side when the world seemed to side with the enemy, but I was simply foolish. I was stupid for thinking that nothing could take her away from me, that nothing in this world could claim her as an ally but me. And I paid for being stupid, I paid the price. Before when the others had left me as my sister did, it didn't hurt so much, because she was there to soothe my anger with her kindness, ease my pain with her voice, forget those torturing memories by filling my mind with peace she gave me. But now, I had no one. Her betrayal was so painful that it was almost endearing, being surrounded by so much sorrow and grief. Almost. I remember the way she lay there in my arms, and I just kneeled there completely helpless, watched as time stole away her youth, as plague and famine made her weak and vulnerable. I remember how at night, I would pray to the gods that my sister foolishly believed in, praying for them to take back their terrible and disastrous gifts of age and sickness. I was desperate for a miracle, but none showed up on out doorstep. If the gods truly existed, then they showed no mercy on my sweet dear sibling. I remember how I heard her last words as each syllable rang through my memory, how she took her last breath in my arms, and how she exhaled onto my arm, then closed her eyes to rest and slumber for eternity. She had looked so frail, so delicate, like a porcelain doll, or expensive china. But that was simply a memory, a sorrowful memory that I would kill to be forgotten. Pain won't come to memories that are forgotten. my sister had once said. Only if we have lost all of out memories, can we ever truly be completely and utterly happy. Happiness. I wish I had never felt the joy of happiness. If I never felt it, then I wouldn't be able to miss it. I mean you can't miss what you never had. But too bad, I had felt it, and I would never be able to be the same. She made me love her with simple gestures of affection, and I had accepted her because she made me happy. I did love her, but after she taught me happiness and trust, she left. It was the greatest betrayal that I had ever encountered. And I will never forgive her for what she did. Never. Because now I was alone. Because of her.