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Chapter One:

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for they are with me.

I repeated my version of the psalm as I watched the ribbon of blood drift from my wrist. Id hoped itwould be a distractionsomething to stop me from wondering what my sisters dying thoughts had

been. Exhaling slowly, I let the emptiness consume me.

Jordan had kept my secrets and I had kept hers. In the end, it came down to just one secret betweenus that took her life. Now, it would take mine. I should have said something, but nothing I said or didnow could bring her back or make anyone understand what she meant to me.

Are you here, Jordan? Are you with me? Tell me about heaven...

I told myself Jordan was gone, never coming back, but her memories continued to haunt me. I hadno idea if there even was an afterlife. If God existed, I was convinced he had given up on me. Notonce did I sense hed heard a single one of my prayers. I wasnt asking for the worldI only wanted

to know if my sister was safe and at peace. What was so hard about that?

She should still be here. It wasnt fair.

Id been the difficult onemuch more than Jordan. For a while, Id even gotten into drugs. Mom andDad had worried Id get Jordan into drugs, too. But I wouldnt. Not ever. Besides, that part of my lifehad been over long before Jordans death. A small gargoyle tattoo on my left shoulder was all thatremained of my previous lifestyle.

Mom and Dad started treating me differently after Jordans funeral two months ago. She and I weretwins, so I understood how hard it was for them to look at me and not see her. Sometimes, they

wouldnt look at me at all. Mom went to the psychiatrist, but no one asked if I needed to talk tosomeone about what happened. No one asked if I needed sleeping pills or antidepressants. Yeah,sure. Dont give the former addict pi lls of any sort.

Not one person saw the all-consuming suffering that gnawed at my soul. Why couldnt anyone see?Jordan had been more than my sistershed been my Samson, my strength. I would have doneanything for her, and yet, Id failed her. I wasnt the one whod killed her, but I might as well havebeen. How could I ever live with that? My heart had a stillness to it since her death.

I shall fear no evil.

I couldnt very well recite the first part of Psalm 23 because it said I shall not want, and I did want. Iwanted to go back in time. I wanted my sister back. Clearly, goodness and mercy were never goingto be part of my life ever again. In my mind, I saw myself walking through the iron gates of hell withdemons cackling gleefully all around.

I didnt want to die. Not really. I was just tired and didnt know of another way to stop the pain.Doctors removed a bad appendix. Dentists pulled rotten teeth. What was I supposed to do when myvery essence hurt, when the cancer Id come to call depression made every decent memoryagonizingly unbearable?

Before Id gotten down to cutting my wrist (I managed to only cut one), Id taken a few swigs of

Dads tequilathe good kind he kept in the basement freezer. Id used another swig or two tochase down the remainder of Moms sleeping pills in the event I failed to hit an artery or vein. ThenId set the bottle on the ledge of the tub in case I needed further liquid encouragement. Instead ofusing a knife or a razor, I attached a cutting blade to my Dads Dremel. The Dremel was faster, Ireasoned. More efficient.

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It would have been easier to OD, I suppose. But I felt closer to my sister this way, to suffer as shedsuffered.

I recited the line from Psalms 23 again. It had become my personal mantra.

The words resonated in my parents oversized bathroom. Id chosen theirs because the Jacuzzi tubwas larger than the tub in the hall bathroom. Jordan and I used to take bubble baths together in thissame tub when we were little.

Innocence felt like a lifetime ago. I searched the bathroom for bubble bath but came up short. Soapmight have made the laceration hurt more so it was probably just as well. Besides, the crimsonstreaming from my wrist like watercolor on silk was oddly mesmerizing.

The loneliness inside proved unrelenting, and the line from the psalms made me feel better. I prayedfor the agony inside me to stop. I argued with God. Pleaded. But after all was said and done, I justwanted the darkness to call me home.

I tried not to think of who would find my body or whod read the note Id left. I blamed myself not onlyfor failing Jordan, but for failing my parents, too.

My lifeline to this existence continued to bleed out into the warm water. Killing myself had beenharder than Id imagined. I hadnt anticipated the searing fire racing through my veins. I reached forthe tequila with my good arm but couldnt quite manage. Tears welled in my eyes.

Part of me foolishly felt Jordan was here. The other part feared she wasnt.

Give me a sign, Sis. Just one.

I imagined seeing my parents at my funeraltheir gaunt faces, red-eyed and sleepless. How could Ido this to them? Wasnt the devastation of losing one child enough?

No. Stop. A voice in my head screamed. Dont do this. Dont. Please...

I shifted my body, attempted to get my uncooperative legs under me. I could see the phone on myparents nightstand. I could make it that far. Had to. The voice was right. I didnt want to do this. I feltdisorientated, dizzy. Darkness crept along the edges of my vision. Focusing became difficult. Asweeping shadow of black caught my attention. Someone stood in the bathroomnot my sister. Aman. Had I managed to call 911? I couldnt remember getting out of the tub. And whyd I get backin? Did I use a towel?

Mom is going to be pissed when she sees the blood Ive tracked all over the bedroom carpet.

Im sorry, I told the man in black.

Its okay, Keely. Dont be afraid. Not my fathers voice. It was softer, with a hint of sorrow. Distant.Fleeting. Later, Id feel embarrassed about this, but for now I was safe from the nothing Id almostbecome. My teeth clattered from the chill. My eyelids fluttered in time with my breaths. The tub waterhad turned the color of port wine. The ribbons, the pretty, red watercolor ribbons were gone.

Dull gray clouded my sight.

A voice whispered to me, and my consciousness floated to the surface again.

okay, Keely.

Cold. So cold.

Im right here.

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There was no fear in me as the man bent forward, his face inches from mine. He was my fathersage, and yet strangely older. His eyes were so...blue, almost iridescent. The irises were rimmed in afine line of black, and the creases etched at the corners reminded me of sunbeams as he gave mea weak smile. The oddly. Dressed. Paramedic. A warm hand reached into the water and cradledmine. My fingers clutched his. I sighed, feeling myself floating, drifting. Lighthigh and intenseexploded before me. No! Too much. Too much! I shuddered and labored to catch my breath, but itwouldnt come.

Finally, the comfort of darkness rose to greet me.