Chenequa Terrell

One Heart

One Heart My sister’s hand was still warm as it remained intertwined with mine. It was the stillness that served as the harsh reminder that she was gone. Our parents tried to comfort me and one another, but I had yet to cry. I couldn’t focus on them right now; my eyes were transfixed on Kori’s hands. Her long slender fingers inside of my hand. The matching half heart tattoos we had on our left ring fingers. Being only 18 months apart, she was my very best friend. She had held my hand my entire life and I wasn’t sure if I could let hers go. Panic rumbled in the pit of my stomach with the prospect of leaving the hospital, leaving my sister here to be cold and lonely. A sob clawed its way out my throat. I couldn’t understand what had happened. Although, Kori had been diagnosed in childhood with congenital heart disease, she hadn’t told me about being ill. We told each other everything. We had no secrets, or at least that’s what I always thought. I asked her over Christmas break if she was okay because she kept getting tired and she reassured me that she was fine, she had started a new medication and simply had to readjust. I wasn’t to worry and when I suggested taking time off from school to stay until she felt better, she wouldn’t allow it. She reiterated the importance of staying with my studies, especially in my freshmen year. Since then, she had seemed her usual self on our FaceTime chats. Maybe I wasn’t paying close enough attention. I was in my freshman year at a college half way across the country that she had insisted I go to. I never wanted to be so far away from her, but she assured me that it would be good for me, that she couldn’t be my whole life.