Chapter 5

"You ask this now after I've already passed this part? I really did not want to talk about that in detail; even now that memory is too painful. I guess if I must, since it is part of what made me change, I will share. On May 6, 1984 my twin Lee and I were sitting in the back of our parents' car driving along the Warren Street bypass. I was seated on the driver's side of the car and Lee on the passenger's side.

The only thing I don't remember is which of my parents was driving. As we were passing the Rt .183 entrance and exit ramp a driver came onto the bypass at extremely high speed. I don't know if it was because he was drunk or if he in fact didn't see us but there was a loud screech of tires, then the sound of crunching twisting and screeching metal. Glass shattered, exploding all around me and my family as our car came to a sudden stop, looking over I saw my twin. I didn't realize he had already died, tears were in my eyes and fear in my heart.

Having witnessed the accident, another driver stopped. Their daughter jumped out of the car, forgetting all the danger and rushed to the side of our car. That girl was Hope, the same girl who so recently just moved to our school. She filled in these details later as I had already started with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, going into shock. You see Hope helped me, and my parents out of the car, then she helped the drunk out of his ... while we were sitting at the side of the road as she was going back for my twin, whom she had seen was cut in half by shrapnel caused by the accident, the cars went up in flame.

Even now talking about this makes the warm tears flow ... Must I continue... ? Can I please skip this? I'm begging please don't make me...

Fine, if I must.

The only one who was really injured in the accident was Lee, every one else had minor cuts and bruises. I found out about Lee's death while in the hospital that afternoon and for the days following I became very quiet but I did not cry.

They say the loss of a twin is the hardest thing in the world. Especially if that twin is identical. The mortality rate of the surviving twin from suicide is very high, and I can see why. I stayed strong for my parents through the funeral and for about a week after. No one, so I thought, knew I was planning to kill my self on the evening of May 18, 1984.

Sitting in the secrete spot, where only my twin and I would go on our third story roof, I was thinking about jumping face first. I wasn't thinking of what my parents would feel ... I wasn't even thinking of my friends. I guess I was being selfish but I could not come to grips with that kind of loss. This was the second time Hope had saved my life. She had seen me sitting up there when she walked by even though I hadn't see her.

She knocked on my door and asked my mom if she could come up and talk to me. After about an hour she talked me into coming inside, and the second she hugged me the dam broke. My mind, my heart, my soul ... everything that was me, everything that I held inside flowed like a river through my eyes. I cried for what seemed like hours, and all Hope did was hold me ... she coddled me ... she even eventually dried my eyes.

I would like to say Hope was allowed to stay the night and comfort me but we were only 9 and 11 years old and she had to leave eventually. I felt somewhat empty and more than a little distressed, but a lot less so then before. Hope never told any one I wanted to kill my self, and I'm glad she did not because she helped me realize how stupid that would have been.

The rest you already know ... Hope had to move away for a while later that year. We now though had a bond like no other, promising to write and talk as much as possible until we met again one day.

I love you, Hope."