My story: A missing puzzle piece.

Everybody has their own life, their own background, their own story. A little piece to my big puzzle of life was reshaped last year, January 7, 2015, at 2:47 when I was in the shower, listening to “What hurts the most” by Rascal Flatts, my song stopped. Though my phone had just died, but it did not. I was getting texts, and phone calls. Right when I step out of the shower I look down, and I had multiple missed calls from Jaydan. I call back, not thinking it would be any bad news, just thinking she wanted to hang out, and the words came out of her mouth, “Ceylon, Your brothers dead. You need to get here.” I know it may sound bad, but I did not believe her, even though inside, I knew she would not just lie about something like that. So, with me being me, I put a shirt on, and a pair of spandex and got into my car, only having to drive a couple blocks to grandmas house, I went almost 80 in a 25. I pulled up and there was no cops, no anything there. Besides Jaydan standing there crying, I walk inside and reality hit me. All I could remember at the moment I saw what I did, was the day I was told my big sister had went to heaven, when he passed, I was 16. And my little brother had died. Not just died in the way of an illness or from an unknown cause, but from suicide. He was pushed past the limit. He thought the only way to make himself happy, was to take his own life. Crazy how fast your whole world can turn upside down. After that I walked outside, it was a cold, snow all over the ground type of day, and I walked towards the grass and just went into tears. I was supposed to be getting ready for work, doing homework, being happy, but then my best friend, my rock, my little brother, and went to heaven. And only what i’d give to have him back is so indescribable. I still remember our every night phone calls, texts, snapchats, ect. I miss everything. I miss him. July 30, 2007 My big sister commited suicide. I was outside riding my bike with the neighbor kids, and I saw my aunt pull up and go inside crying. I thought she was just having a bad day. I was 8. I mean what 8 year old would even guess they were about to here some of the worst news every. Not me. I go inside and my mom and my aunt are sitting at the table. In my kitchen. They say “Ceylon, We need to talk. And you need to understand”. Well from then on, I was told my sister had killed herself, and they had just found her. Waiting on cops and all. Out of the suicide between my brother and sister, nothing was different. They both did it the same way. Let almost the same notes. Last texts, calls, cloths everything. I will not forget what my brothers face looked like, laying there in the closet. Everytime I look at a closet so much gets brought to mind. And I will never forget my sisters last words. Not many people can just open up and tell a broken piece to their story, It has taken me almost a year to even try to type this, and it has not been easy. If you ever feel lost, broken, bullied, like you can’t do it, contact somebody. People do care, and people are out there to help you. Just remember, you are beautiful. And you are worth every second of everyday. Don’t let others effect what you do or say in life. You can be anything you want to be. People will talk, and people will hate, but remember you are you. And thats who you were born to be.