"I don't want to live anymore!" my sister admitted to my parents when she was fourteen years old. This cry for help increased with time and I would not fully grasp her inner demons until years after she died. Was it suicide, was it an accident, was it pre-planned or in the moment? At twenty four years of age my sister's life suddenly ended and all I have left are my broken memories. Why did my compassion stop when she desperately needed it from me? These memories of guilt and the regret that I carry have brought me to my knees. This is a story about God picking me up again after the events leading up to, and following my sister's last breath.