Teenage Dilemmas [UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING]

Chapter Fourteen || Runner isnt having a very Happy Birthday

"If you have a sister and she dies, do you stop saying you have one? Or are you always a sister, even when the other half of the equation is gone?"

-Jodi Picoult

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Ivory

I wake up in a cold sweat at one o'clock in the afternoon on the eve of my sisters funeral.

I take a hazardous and short breath, focusing and un-focusing my eyes, making the room to go all whirly.

I get up and drag my laptop and rest it on my lap, slumping onto my white quilted double bed. I rest the back of my head on the bed's headboard.

I hear the raspy 'Greow.' of my cat, Geronimo. He sometimes goes by Mo.

"Oh Geronimo!" I gasp and he jumps onto my lap, weighing down the keyboard of my laptop. I burry my face into his ginger, fluffy coat. Sure, most cats moult but Geronimo doesn't a lot, that's why Indie and I- I mean I have to comb out his hair once a week.

"Can you please get off my laptop?" I take my face out of the cats back and ask Mo. As usual, he doesn't move.

I sigh and roll my eyes "Please?" Mo rolls off my keyboard, revealing a 200 character long key-smash on Indie's tribute video.

"Well done Mo!" I say exasperated, trying to be angry with the big, ginger fur ball. A lot of backspacing later, I manage to get rid of Geronimo's mess and write 'Indigo's Life' as the title with only a little problem.

I watch the ten minute long video, full of photo's about Indie and her life. After editing, trimming and editing the selection of photos and videos, I hear a knock at the door.

"Come in," I whisper and Mum opens the door with a black clothes bag in her hand.

"Ivory?" Her golden white hair is tied hastily into a knot at the nape of her neck. "Have you finished the video?"

"Mmhmm." I nod and quickly burn the video onto a disk.

"Have you done-" She chokes, holding back tears "Indies eulogy."

"It's too hard," I complain sulkily. I think about Indie, her attempt at survival, her battle for a better life. I am an idiot. How could I say something so stupid? I am weak, compared to Indie's battle, writing a eulogy is nothing.

"Sorry," I mumble quietly "I'm just going to wing it."

"It is going to be okay, okay?" My mother sounded more like she was attempting to reassure herself more than me.

I nod slightly, not meeting my mothers eyes.

"I bought you a dress." My mum lays the clothes bag onto my bed in front of me. I hear a 'ping' noise from my laptop and eject the disc with Indie's video on it and place it shiny side up on my bedside table. I close my laptop lid and take a look at the clothes bag. Mum opens the bag up and unveils a beautiful, lace black dress.

I gasp and hop out of my bed and lift it up to take a better look at it.

"Try it on." My mother insists and I do so. I look at myself, filled with dread in my full length mirror.

The satin pinafore slides against my skin, the dark satin covering my body from the bottom of my sharp collarbones down to the top of my knees. The dress is a short boat neck cut, covering my shoulders with thick jet black lace. The itchy lace also covers my arms, making long sleeves that make no difference to my body temperature whatsoever.

I attempt not to start crying again "I look-"

"-beautiful." Mum interjects.

"No," I sigh, staring vainly into the mirror "I look like Indie."