I don’t know where to start. I can’t think straight again today. This day - April 11th - is the worse day of my life. On this day it is entirely possible for me to feel empty and depressed, no matter how good everything else might be.

Three years ago today, my sister was killed.

Now and again anger flushes over me, but I usually end up wiping tears from my eyes.

I think how strange it was, to have woken up thinking that day would be a normal one. To get showered and dressed and go to work not knowing that somewhere something horrible has happened. That some asshole truck driver tried to make an illegal turn through a space his truck couldn’t clear anyway; paying no mind to the traffic coming his way because he was focused on watching his trailer behind him.

Three years ago, I figure about when I finished shaving my head, my sister was hit. I went to work and it was hours before the news made it to me.

Three years ago, I found out a broken heart was more than some romantic literary concept. My chest still hurts and my heart feels dead when I remember that day.

I love you Vicky. I miss you baby sister…