who are expected to die are the ones who get Make-A-Wish. I was too young. The other thing that was never explained to me was that Shylo on her last weeks was brought home from the hospital for at home stay care in bed. This made me so happy because I thought the reason she came back home was that she was getting better and finally would stay with us. No one explained it to the little boy that she was brought home to die. That they could no longer do anything to save the most amazing person in my life. When I found out later how wrong I was, it killed me. I couldn’t sleep for days and got very unhealthy. I would cry every night for my sister and sleep with my parents in their room because I was so lonely. I prayed every night for God to giver her back. “God, why did you take her? This is unfair! I am the awful one who is so angry all the time! Take me instead! She was too important, I am the one who doesn’t matter!!” Imagine a six-year-old Chance telling himself this stuff every night. It’s the reason I still have bad insomnia and feel lonely every night. If I could never go to bed I would be the happiest man alive. Shylo showed me everything, she is the reason I feel more attached to girls instead of boys, she is the reason I am very flamboyant and a very understanding guy who has no more anger to spare, and I owe it all to her. The day Shylo died was just like any typical day. I wasn’t feeling very well, and my grandma was giving me a bath when my aunt came into the bathroom looking very distraught. My grandma asked what was wrong and she blurted out “Shylo died…” This made my chest sink to the bottom of the tub. I was rushed out of the bathtub and was helped getting dressed when we all sprinted downstairs. Shylo had her own hospital bed put in the living room which I thought was so cool at the time and that’s where we found her. She was so cold looking and not moving. This brought shivers up my spine as I approached my sister. The first thing I noticed was that she had a bloody nose. Well it wasn’t really a bloody nose, but she must’ve had one because there was dried up blood under her nose that looked like copper. I thought this was why she died, I thought when people die I guess their nose bleeds because they shut off. I don’t know why her nose had bled but it was there for a while. The next thing I remember is hugging her and saying goodbye with eyes full of water. I cried and cried and cried until I was no more. I didn’t want to continue. I couldn’t just go on looking at my new changed sister without and hair, with chubby cheeks, and that fucking blood above her lips. I wanted to die. I hate cancer. I still feel it should have been me even though I know I shouldn’t, but I do know she would have made more of a difference in life then me. She had the kind heart that I do now, she gave it to me because she loves me, but she was born with it. I was
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