Then A Little Voice In Him Said,

At Fourteen, My Sister Sailed Away From Me Into A Place I’d Never Been. In The Walls Of My Sex There Was Horror And Blood, In The Walls Of Hers There Were Windows.

What Did Dead Mean, Ray Wondered. It Meant Lost, It Meant Frozen, It Meant Gone.

And There She Was, Alone And Walking Out In The Cornfield While Everyone Else I Cared For Sat Together In One Room. She Would Always Feel Me And Think Of Me. I Could See That, But There Was No Longer Anything I Could Do. Ruth Had Been A Girl Haunted And Now She Would Be A Woman Haunted. First By Accident And Now By Choice. All Of It, The Story Of My Life And Death, Was Hers If She Chose Tot Ell It, Even To One Person At A Time.

I Watched My Beautiful Sister Running . . . And I Knew She Was Not Running Away From Me Or Toward Me. Like Someone Who Has Survived A Gut-shot, The Wound Had Been Closing, Closing - Braiding Into A Scar For Eight Long Years.

She Sat In Her Room On The Couch My Parents Had Given Up On And Worked On Hardening Herself. Take Deep Breaths And Hold Them. Try To Stay Still For Longer And Longer Periods Of Time. Make Yourself Small And Like A Stone. Curl The Edges Of Yourself Up And Fold Them Under Where No One Can See. ~pg 29, Susie's Sister Lindsey Dealing With Grief.