Death's Echo

The story of how I lost two holes in my heart.

I never did find out about Shadow.

                It had been a long day, and I was tired. I was annoyed with my little sister, and being only eight at the time, I couldn't understand what was going to happen. I wouldn't until long after this. I still cry for her, late at night, when long-lost memories float upwards, like balloons in a deep pool.

                I was heading to bed, and my older sister was finishing her shower. I didn't pay much attention to her or the bathroom, I didn't on a normal evening. But this wan't normal. Far from it.

                I had climbed into the bottom portion of the bunk bed I had to myself. My two other sisters shared a bed in the room next door, a fact that I found pleasure in. As I went to fall asleep, I heard my older sister, who I shall call Emmie, call for a towel. My younger sister, who will be known as Lizzie, relied with a swift 'You go get it yourself!'

                At that, Emmie used an old towel to keep herself covered while she went to the laundry room two floors below to retrieve a cleaner substitute. It was then that she saw what had happened, only hours before.

                In that dryer, lying half-under the load inside, was my cat. My only cat. Lying there was Shadow.

                As soon as I heard the scream, I knew it was all over. My world had been shattered beyond repair. I fell apart sobbing, oblivious to the chaos surrounding me at that moment. It took countless minutes for me to compose myself. No matter what happened after that, it wouldn't replace one of my closest friends.

                Four and a half year later, my grief would be repeated harshly.

                Tigger, another cat, had found a place in my heart, much like Shadow had. However, his last moments were known, but not to me.

                Two days before the Fourth of July, I let Tigger outside, without thought. I wouldn’t ever see him again after that. He went off and did whatever tomcats do when you let the out, I assumed.  I didn’t think much about it then, and I don’t like the emotional pain of thinking about it now.

                That night, I went to bed, like I did the previous death. However, there was no warning sign given to me that something tragic would happen in my own house.

                In my parent’s room, Tigger had been silently brought onto the bed. He was flailing wildly and most blindly. He was crying and in obvious pain, I would learn later. Even if he could be taken to a vet in time, they could only shorten his life by minutes. The end came swiftly, so he did not suffer long. My only regret about this was that I couldn’t tell him good-bye, as I couldn’t for Shadow.

                The next morning, oblivious to the night’s prevails, I went downstairs to eat breakfast. The annual Fourth of July parade was to be that day, and I was looking forward to it. There was no sign of death’s passing the night before, so how was I to know?

                Hours later, my mom broke the news to me. I lost all control when the flood of emotion hit me like a brick wall. I promised myself then that I would never let my heart be this shattered again.

It will be broken again, with time.