At the funeral, all eyes were wet except mine. Each one of my family members kept putting their arm around my shoulders and told me it was okay to cry, just let it out, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t pay attention to what the pastor was saying or what the weather was like, I didn’t even curse God and ask him why he would take an innocent child away from my family. I just stared at the baby-sized hole in the ground. Despite their words, I did not cry, not one tear escaped my eyes.

I looked at her tiny little gray gravestone: Kristi Ann Spearbecker; I had always wanted a sister.

Ashley Stussy
Excerpts from
"Four Houses"
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