It's probably kind of strange, but after everything that's happened, I'm finding myself really, really missing my sister. She was... my balance. The light-heartedness to my seriousness, the cheer to my seriousness, the everything to my everything else.
I know exactly what she'd tell me if she were here -- to treasure my friends and be grateful that things didn't even worse than the incredibly bad that they already did. But it's hard to think that way in the face of what happened. Because knowing what happened, what some of us did to some of the others? How can we live with ourselves?
Even though I didn't do anything to anybody, how can I live with myself?