𝐨𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 || steve randles sister

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨

"thinking back to the last moments i had with my sister, i chose not to let her vulnerable image reflect her life."

"she wasn't the same person she had always been the night she died. olive was more then what killed her. she wasn't weak and she wasn't ever alone, and i don't think she knew it. i think back to that night though. i think back to that night every day since it had happened.  it really showed me how the strongest of people have moments where even they can't keep
fighting."

"but other then my feelings of my sister, today we celebrate olive aster randles life, and in that we celebrate who she was, and what she loved to do."

i couldn't read it anymore. placing the paper down back on the kitchen table where i had found it, i couldn't help but cry a little while reading the words plastered in pencil.

it was my first day back from the hospital where i had spent the last five weeks of my life recovering, and in that time everyone had prepared for the moment where i would've died. everyone was forced to let go.

"hey, don't look at that." steve smiled nervously, grabbing the paper from the wood table after he had set down probably half of my room in three of my bags that he had packed for the hospital.

we had just walked in the door, but he had prepared to never see me in this room again. i was reading my own goddamn eulogy for fucks sake.

placing my hand to my side where the stitches dug themselves into my skin, my mind suddenly flash backed to that night.

i recall steve saying once that the day i died was the worst of his life. the night that took his soul was the hardest he had ever lived, and nothing to come could ever compare.

my head in his arms was my last memory before i passed out. the moment i was looking up to him reflected the way i had been my whole life. i can remember vividly when as a child, my mother would lay me in his lap and he would hold up my head. looking down to me with such love, he couldn't stop smiling at my face. such care in his eyes had flashed forward to such sorrow.

his screams etched themselves in my brain as i bled out on the pavement in front of the house i practically grew up in. the cracks in his voice and the way he held me so tight.

i can remember everything from the night i was supposed to die.

the night my family didn't let me.

holding my breath in fear that letting go would cause even more of a pain in my right side, i closed my eyes, nose scrunching up with a lack of comfort.

my head in steves lap, darry had placed his arms to my side, basically sticking his bare hands into my skin and what lie beneath the surface. he had loudly instructed dallas to call the ambulance just moments before my eyes started to close once more.

"you gotta keep your eyes open, alright kid?" my brother sniffled from above me, his hands placed on either side of my face.

a tear slipped, falling horizontally down my skin after leaving my eye. wiping it with his thumb, he smiled down in hopes his grin would make me feel the least bit better. i can remember smiling back to him, but it was quite a saddened smile, one that i'm sure did nothing to make himself feel better.

the radio was still blasting from the car i had forgotten to turn off, the tape still playing in the holder. the lyrics pounding themselves into my head.