I'm posting this on here, fully aware not many people will see it, or even read. 3 years ago, on this day, two very special, people left this earth. Battling with their depression, abuse, torture, an illness only your nightmares can imagine, they thought there was only one way out. 3 years ago, I woke up, to a phone call from my sister, crying, unusual for her, she couldn't get words out but I knew something had happen. As her voice quiets, I heard the words "come home now". For me, I had no idea what was happening, but I knew I had to be home. As I was driving, I heard sirens, which is natural for a Thursday night. As I pulled up to the street, I see people outside, odd for 1 in the morning but I didn't think to much of it, until I went round the corner. The flashing lights were blinding but as I focused, I learnt, they were at my house. Panicking, shaking, I rushed inside to check if everyone was okay. Sister: yes, Brother: yes, Parents: ....
That night, I had lost a part of my life, my soul, I might never get it back but one thing I do know, is that I'll always love and look up to my parents.
R.I.P K&J, fly high 💙
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