THE LAST MOMENT I had been sitting outside the hospital room for what seemed like days. I was contemplating what to say to my sister, Melissa. She was on the breathing machine so that she could stay alive. Melissa decided that she didn't want to suffer anymore. She wanted the plug pulled.      Missy had been pulling each one of her family members into her room to talk to them separately before the big event. I wondered what she was saying to them, I wondered what she was going to say to me. I was terrified. I didn't want to go in and see her because I knew that if I did, that would mean the time for her to go was coming closer. I didn't want it to happen. I think more than anything, I was so angry with her. I just wanted to hit her and not stop. I was angry with her because she was dying. She wasn't supposed to. She was supposed to live longer than me, and have kids to watch grow up. We were supposed to make more memories together, and travel the world together. She wasn't supposed to die at sixteen. Ninety eight. That was her time to go, age ninety eight. It wasn't supposed to happen now.      As I sat crying, I thought about all the good times that we had together. My fondest memory was a small one. We were walking home one day from high school. It was a very rainy day. Missy and I loved to play in the rain, but this time was different. Before we walked into the house, Missy looked at me. With the rain slowly trickling down her face, she said, "I love you so much, Jessica."      Then she hugged me. I was ecstatic. In my entire lifetime she had never told me that she loved me. I would always say I love you and she would say ditto. It meant a lot to me to hear her actually say those words.      As my mom walked out of the door to the hospital room, she had tears rolling down her face. I had finally stopped crying and when I saw my mom I got teared up again. She said, "You're the last, Jess."      I felt like I was going to pass out.      As I slowly got up and walked to the door, all of my childhood memories passed in front of my eyes: riding our bikes together, having out midnight talks, or even just sitting and watching our favorite talk shows. This was the moment that I dreaded the most.      I opened the door and I couldn't help stop the sob that escaped my lips. The way my sister looked. So helpless and pale. She had needless galore in her arm, and tubes stuck up her nose.      I walked over to hold her hand that she extended out to me. Tears slowly rolled down my face. As I opened my mouth to say something to her, she silenced me with her fingers against my mouth. I wondered why she had done that. She had always let me talk. There was one point in our life when she told me how she loved our midnight talks because of the sound of my voice. She said it was gentle and calm. It soothed her so that she could go to sleep.      Then she said to me, "I love you Jessica. I always will."      With that she signaled to the nurse standing next to her bed who pulled the plug.
Jessica Brown
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