No one really knows what it’s like to face a tragedy.

To stare death in the eye and not even wince.

I won’t dare look away.

I can’t.

Running down Smith Street, my strawberry ice-cream cone in hand, I glance at my sister.

Marie is behind me, gaining speed, her long brown hair flying in the wind. My sneakers scrape against the pavement, the sun beating down its hot, strong rays.

“You’re never gonna catch me!” I tease, stealing a lick of my ice-cream before it drips.

She laughs a chocolate smudge under her bottom lip. “Where are we going?”

I keep ahead of her. “It’s a surprise.”

Rounding the corner, I dart down the wooden pier, reaching the old arcade. My breath escaping from my lips, I slip through one of the doors, hiding in the shadows.

I can hear Marie’s ragged breathing before I see her.

“Lana?” She calls quietly, poking her head through the lighted entryway.

I hold my breath to keep from giggling.

Marie steps into the room, pushing the door all the way open, the light illuminating her bright blue T-shirt.

“Lana where are you?” She says between wheezes, her voice hesitant to grow any louder than a whisper.

“Boo!” I yell, jumping out at her.

She stumbles backwards, losing her balance and falling on her butt.

I erupt into laughter.

“What was that for?!” She whines.

I pull her to her feet, noticing the mashed chocolate cone all over the back of her.

“Oh crap.” She says, wiping at the brown liquid. “Mom’s going to kill me.”

“She will not.” I tell her. “Quit being a baby.”

She rolls her eyes at me, huffing out her breath.

“Where are we anyway?” She asks, looking around.

I brush by her, fumbling around on the back wall for the light switch. Flicking it on, I turn around to see the lights pulsate to life, the generator kicking on.

“I see you still have your ice-cream cone.”

When I look at Marie she is standing with her hands on her hips, a snarl on her face.

I roll my eyes, taking one last lick of my cone and tossing it on the ground. “Happy?” I ask, running by her.

Dust flies up around us and Marie starts to cough terribly.

I am immediately at her side, letting her lean on me. “Let’s go back.” I tell her, turning both of us around.

“I’m fine.” She manages, her breath coming in thin gasps. “Is the carousel still here?”

“Yeah.” I say, slinging her arm around my shoulders. “This was a bad idea.” I kick myself for bringing her here.

“It’s okay Lana.” Marie looks at me, her chest heavily moving in and out for air.

“Mom’s going to kill me.” I tell her, pulling her towards the door.

“Quit being a baby.” She says and pushes away from me, running further into the arcade.

“Marie!” I yell, running after her.

She bounds around the old mechanical games, the dust thickening with each step. She runs past the broken Whack-A-Mole game and the leap frog that cries continuously.

I can’t see anything through the haze, all I can hear is my own breathing.

When I reach the old carousel, Marie is on one of the horses, beaming at me.

Before I can climb on the horse behind her, I see her face fall, and her grip loosens on the pole.

Blood starts pouring out of her nose and mouth as she fights for air.

She begins to fall backwards, losing control. I jump behind her, wrapping my arms around her stomach as we both land on the sandy ground.

I push her off me, laying her down. Her body begins to shake, terrified eyes not moving from mine.

I roll her on her side, forcing her shirt up, to pat her back.

That’s when I notice the bruise.

Marie’s fit continues and she reaches for my hand to squeeze. “It’s back.”

We were seven.

Marie Sampson, my identical twin sister was re-diagnosed with Lung Cancer.

It’s been a battle for my entire family. In and out of the hospital, waiting for more signs to indicate the treatment hasn’t worked.

We thought they cut it all out when she was three. We were wrong and so were they.

This time it’s terminal.

I wake up every morning terrified that her oxygen mask has slipped off in the night or she bleeds out from the continuous nose bleeds and vomiting.

It’s hard to live your life knowing that part of you is dying. The truth is I don’t want to live my life without Marie. At least none of us are living now anyway.

My parents divorced two years ago, the stress got to them. My mother sort of went through a mental break down, so she’s mostly home zonked out in front of the television. This leaves me to all of the cooking and cleaning, plus I pitch in for rent. I work two jobs; I’m a part time pet bather for The Dog Shack and I work weekends in retail.

I live with my mother and my thirteen year old brother Zach, lives with my father.

Marie and I had our sixteenth birthday two weeks ago. I just got my license and Marie got another round of chemo.

Turning into the hospital parking lot, I tuck my blonde and pink streaked bangs behind my ear. Parking the car and exiting with my side bag, I start my walk up the path. Reaching the glass double doors, I pull them open, the smell of antiseptic filling my senses.

“Hey Dolores.” I wave at the nurse sitting behind the desk and she nods her head in hello.

Winding my way down the hall and up a flight of stairs, I pass by doctors and nurses whom I’ve come to know as friends. All of them at one time or another has spoken with my family about Marie’s case. Some share stories about their children, others have stayed by Zach and my side through the tough spots.

The good times are far and few between, Marie’s condition has deteriorated into just a matter of time. Minutes, days, months; no one can pin-point the exact time she will die.

It’s scary to think about. To think that one day I will wake up terrified, and then that feeling won’t go away. It will grip my insides until there is nothing left.

My dark painted fingers twine around the door handle as I take a deep breath and enter Marie’s room.

“Hey Lana.” She says, not even looking up at me, flipping through a magazine.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, setting my bag on one of the chairs and mussing Zach’s hair. “What’s up punk?”

“Lana!” He whines ducking his head and carrying on with his hand held Nintendo game.

“Oh, you know the usual.” Marie answers, flipping the page. “Chemo sucked, I only puked twice today.” She doesn’t take her eyes off the glossy pages and pounds her fist into Zach’s.

“She threw up raisins.” Zach informs me.

“Sweet deal.” I say, plucking her Jell-O cup off the bedside table. “Did Paris Hilton find her new BFF?” I ask, plopping down next to Marie.

“Not yet.” She exhales, twiddling her fingers around her aquamarine head scarf. “I think she’s in it for the publicity.”

I laugh, hopping back up to nab some water. “Where’s dad?” I ask after taking a sip.

“He’s at the cafeteria, should be back soon.” Zach replies, pursing his lips, concentrating on his game.

“I’ll go get him, do you want anything?” I ask, moving to the door.

“Maybe a soda.” Zach says, throwing his feet over the side of the chair.

“Marie?”

“Nothing, I’m fi-“ But before she can finish, she begins to choke horribly, blood squirting out of her nose.

She stops breathing.

“Get the nurse!” I yell to Zach, rushing over to her bed and shoving her oxygen mask back on her face.

The heart monitor starts wailing, a jagged red line slowly becoming flat.

My mouth opens to yell, scream, shout. But nothing comes out.

The doctor and nurse rush into the room, ordering me to step back. Zach is at my side, gripping my hand tightly. He leads me out of the room and suddenly my father is behind me, rubbing my back.

“It’s not time!” I scream, banging on the glass window.

Zach is tucked into my father’s side, immobile.

After what seems like hours the nurse emerges, taking off her surgical mask. “She’s stable.” The dark skinned woman tells us. “I suggest you say your goodbyes.”

She walks by us, squeezing my shoulder and whispers. “I’m sorry.”

I sniffle back my tears and enter the room after my father. Zach kneels by the bed, twining his fingers through Marie’s.

“Hi dad.” Marie says, slowly opening her red rimmed eyes.

My father bends to kiss her forehead. “Hey kid.” He holds her other hand, kneeling on the side opposite Zach. I see a tear roll down his cheek.

Marie sends me a watery smile and she leans over to kiss Zach’s head. “I love you.” She whispers as he cries into the bed sheets.

“I don’t want you to go.” I hear him murmur.

I walk over and bend behind him, wrapping my arms around his shaking body.

I don’t say anything, just hold him.

“I’ll miss you.” My father tells her, choking on his cries.

Marie touches her forehead to my fathers. “I’ll always be your little girl, don’t forget that.”

It’s my turn to say goodbye.

I wipe my nose on my black long sleeve, crawling up to the end of the bed.

She takes my hand in hers and we just cry. I lay down next to her, my body convulsing.

“It’s okay.” She tells me.

“I need you.” I hiccup, my short hair falling in my eyes.

“Don’t be a baby.” She whispers, her breathing becoming tired and heavy.

I turn toward her, our foreheads touching. “I love you.”

“This isn’t goodbye.” She inhales deeply. “Only see you later.”

I lay my head on her chest, listening to her fading heart beat. She squeezes my hand one last time and whispers. “I’m free.”