A year ago, I lost my beautiful little sister to heroine. She was not always an addict. At one time, she was a vibrant, loving mother of two.
She loved horses, tattoos, puppies, and most of all her children and nephews. She came into my life when I was just five years old. Like all sisters, we would fuss and fight, but I loved her unconditionally. Even through her addiction, I never stopped loving her. What I wouldn't give to have her again to fuss with....
She was no longer the same person. The heroine had taken over. She stole, lied, neglected her kids, or wouldn't come home. She thought her family hated her but that wasn't true.
Her kids, me, and her nephews
Her contagious laughter. Her raspy voice. The way she always tried to get me to get matching tattoos. I hate that my first tattoo will be in her memory.