Quiet And Incredible. I Really Envy That.

I Am The Middle Sister. The One In Between. Not Oldest, Not Youngest, Not Boldest, Not Nicest. I Am The Shade Of Gray, The Glass Half Empty Or Full, Depending On Your View. In My Life, There Has Been Little That I Have Done First Or Better Than The One Preceding Or Following Me. Of All Of Us, Though, I Am The Only One Who Has Been Broken.

I Was Woundering What He Would Say, What Word Could Sum Me Up Right Then, When I Saw The Lights Come Across His Face, Blaringly Yellow, And Suddenly He Was Brighter, And Brighter, And I Asked Him What Was Happening, What Was Wrong. I Remember Only That Light, So Strong It Spilled Across My Shoulders, And Lit Up His Face, And How Scared He Looked As Something Big And Loud Hit My Door, Sending Glass Shattering Across Me, Little Sparks Catching The Light Like Diamonds, As They Fell, With Me, Into The Dark.

But Something, Somehow, Had Made All These Paths Converge. You Couldn't Find It On A Checklist, Or Work It Into The Equation. It Just Happened.

N The Dark Everyone Felt The Same: The Edges Blurred. When I Think Of Myself Then, What I Was Like Two Years Ago, I Feel Like A Wound In A Bad Place, Prone To Be Bumped On Corners Or Edges. Never Able To Heal.

I Couldn't Tell Her. I Couldn't Tell Anyone. As Long As I Didn't Say It Aloud, It Wasn't Real.