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I wondered what it felt like to be not constantly afraid of love. To just live in the moment and let yourself loose without being scared if you will ever feel the same again. To not tell your heart to calm down whenever you felt that rush of adrenalin. To learn to walk after being crippled once. And to recklessly do what you wanted without being worried about the consequence of the fall. I couldn't know, because I paved my way for an easier option: to confine my existence into my room, among my books.

A Coward.

I shook my head, fighting these morbid thoughts which were clearly the result of boredom, that had unfortunately consumed me that day. Pretty ironic, since I had a pile of homework sitting on my table, waiting to be completed since the last Tuesday.

I lay on my bed, hidden underneath a pile of thick sheets, listening to the radio, when I decided to be a little more productive. I dragged myself to the table and managed to pick up a pencil, which five minutes later, still remained unused. My artistic mind had gone numb along with my body, and I held the brisk cold responsible.

For my History paper, I had to write an essay on The Great Sacrifices In History. I happened to know quite a few. During the 9/11 attacks, Richard Rescorla, the director of security at Morgan Starley, was able to help evacuate over 2,500 people. He calmly instructed people to leave right up until the moment he got killed. Another great man, Ryan Arnold lost his life to save his brother's. His brother needed a liver transplant, and upon finding out that he is a compatible donor, Ryan selflessly went ahead with the surgery, but however, died in the process. Then, a very unusual sacrifice, I had read on a website about, struck my mind. A suicidal Kazakhstani man drunkenly fell asleep on the train track, but his devoted and legendary dog, used all his tricks; pulling, kicking and nudging to get his owner to safety. Sadly, the dog got hit by a train and died, sacrificing life for his friend.

There were countless stories of bravery, heroism, and sacrifice made by men, and of course, dogs. I wish I had the chance to know one of those people, but instead, karma had rewarded me the exact opposite of selfless in the form of my mother. Before my mind could jump to darker things, I flicked the switch of my brain and got to work. My pencil had just hit the paper when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," I said, without taking my eyes off my work.

Amy, my younger sister looked mischievous. She held her hands behind her back and grinned from ear to ear. I noticed that she was dressed up in a red cotton frock with a maroon sweater and matched it with brown boots that went up to her knees. She looked a lot older than what an eleven-year-old is supposed to look like. And If it were not for her bushy eyebrows and thin lips, she would have looked like my clone.

"What do you need Amy?" I asked her, knowing exactly what she needed.

She widened her eyes and pouted her lips. "What makes you think I'm here because I need something?"

"I'm your sister, I know when you want something from me," I smiled. "So, what is it?"

Amy's eyes lit up with excitement. "Let's go out to eat ice cream. I am really in the mood for one."

I got up, kicked off my slippers and jumped on my bed. "No Amy, it's so cold out there," I said, yawning. "I don't wanna go. Some other day, okay?"

Amy frowned and folded her hands on her chest. That was her gesture to show that she was offended. " You're so lazy Ev. Get up and we'll go to the ice cream parlor. Dad wouldn't let me go alone."

"Ask Lenaaaaa"

Lena was our helper. After Mother left us, It was just me and dad to take care of her, which at times went beyond our capabilities. For around a month, we barely managed. Soon afterward, Dad hired Lena to take care of Amy and I. Funny thing is that even after our nurturing years were over, we all had gotten so attached to her that the idea of Lena going away from our house, seemed impossible. Thus she stayed, took care of all of us, and did her job selflessly.

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