I kneeled down on the dirt, my long, black dress billowing out around me. Eyes welling, I laid the bouquet of lavender down by the gravestone of my sister. No longer would we hear the joyful tones of her piano playing or see her lovely, heartwarming smile light up her face. There would be no more twilight, soul-bearing discussions or girlish giggles shared.

The day Annie died was the saddest time of my existence. She was the most kind-hearted, truly good soul that had ever lived and was more in love with life than any person to walk this earth. Why, oh why, was she taken away from us? Annie was loved by all, practically the whole town attended her funeral. And it was no wonder. She cheerfully helped anyone and everyone, no matter how difficult the task.

I headed back to our house, dreading to meet all the bittersweet memories surrounding it. My windswept hair formed a cloud around my face, so I picked up a brush to tame it. Annie’s brush. I could remember her brushing out her golden curls that I was so jealous of as she told a funny story. I smiled, thinking she would come dancing in again, before I remembered she was gone. Gone. The brush fell from my fingers and I threw myself down on the bed. My grief overwhelmed me and tears fell like a waterfall from my eyes. Once I could cry no more, I sat up and my gaze landed on the dresser. That’s odd, I thought. Didn’t I set the brush there? I scanned the room, looking for who had moved the brush. I saw no one. I got down on my knees and looked under the dresser for my brush. Not there. Under the bed proved fruitless as well. Emotionally weary, I gave up and went downstairs.
“Ginny,” my mom beckoned, forcing a weak smile onto her tear stained face. “Do you want to keep this music?”
“Yes, please,” I responded. I hugged the music to my chest.

“She wouldn’t want us to be sad, you know, honey.”
“Why did she have to die?” I asked desperately.
“I don’t know,” said my mom as she took me in her arms and wept.

I let go and walked to the piano and set the music on the bench. I turned to go, but stopped in my tracks when I heard piano music playing. I spun around, alarmed. No one was there and the keys were still as night. What was going on?

“Ginny, dear, come set the table,” my mother called.
I pulled the silverware out of the drawer and began the chore, setting the cutlery and plates in their places. I went into the pantry to get napkins, but when I came back, the napkins were already there. Annie always set the napkins.
“Uh, Ginny, dear, why are you setting more napkins?” my mother asked.
“Oh, sorry, I just got more than I needed,” I said confusedly.

Was I going crazy? The missing brush, the piano music, the napkins. I needed to clear my head, so I went outside into the crisp air.

Setting off down the path in the woods, I tried no to the think about the events of the day, scared to acknowledge them. Suddenly, I heard a sound coming from the trees. I turned my head to see what it was. Nothing was there. For the fourth time that day, my imagination had run wild, but I know I hadn’t imagined the napkins.

“Genevieve,” I heard my name whispered through the trees.
“Yes?” I asked softly, worriedly.
“Look in the trees.”

When I did, I almost fainted from shock. There in front of me was an almost transparent image of my sister, looking pale as death and sadder than I’d ever seen her.

“Whoa. I really am imagining things.”
“No, you’re not, Ginny. It’s me, Annie. Just…different.”
“B-but…how?” I stuttered.
“I had one more chance to come back. Ginny you can’t be so desolate for me. I’ve watched you, and I can’t stand it. I’m not going to let you throw your life away.”

After that, I went to the forest every day, looking for Annie. She did not come. Mother grew worried, I wasn’t eating enough, she said. Every time I looked in the mirror I was struck by the paleness of my face and the desperate, yearning sadness in my eyes. After more than a month of this, Annie finally came back.

“I could bear it no longer,” she said when she first saw me. “Every day you come back here, you are thinner and paler. Ginny, you can’t let this hold you back. Don’t dwell on what isn’t real. I came back once to tell you I didn’t want you to be sad, I am here again because you are in a worse state than before. I know it is hard to see me. I wouldn’t believe it myself if I were you. But you are wasting away. Ginny, I’m not coming back again, I swear it. And don’t you dare try to see me again sooner than your time. That would break our parents’ hearts for good. It’s bad enough they were forced to bury one child. Goodbye.”

She floated away on the wind and left me standing there. Goodbye, Annie, I thought. And I smiled for the first time in months.