I was maybe five at the time, and you were probably seven. The whole family was gathered at First Beach. It was something we did every year – get together with the family, have a relaxing BBQ and just play. I was playing with you in the cool sand, as I always did with you, building castles and laughing happily. Rachael Black, who was your age, had come up to us, she was angry, as she always was at these get-togethers. She came out of nowhere and kicked your beautiful sandcastle down. You were extremely upset Emily, you loved that castle, you put time and effort into that castle the whole day we'd been there. You started crying silently as Rachael just laughed. It broke my heart when I saw you cry, you were my best friend, my sister, and no one messed with my sister, so I got up and got a bucket of the freezing water we weren't allowed to go into and poured it all over Rachael.

She was the last one crying, Emily, not you.

I was maybe ten, and you were probably twelve. Her name was Amy White, and she had invited me to a sleep over, I was thrilled, ready to have the time of my life, but there was a part of me missing. You weren't invited; you sat on my bed so sullen, watching me jump up and down for joy. You didn't say anything of course; you were always the shy one, but I knew, you are my sister, and I always knew. So I decided to invite you, I know it wasn't my place, but still I couldn't see you hurt, I cared Emily, I always cared about you. When arriving to the sleep over Amy wasn't pleased to see you, in fact she was very irritated and said terrible things. You started silently crying, as Amy and the rest of the girls laughed. So I got up and picked up the nearest vase; the one I knew her mother loved, and slammed it to the wall. The shattered glass fell everywhere, ending her loud laugh.

She was the last one crying, Emily, not you.

I was maybe thirteen, and you were probably fifteen. His name was Joseph Adam. You had come crying to my house, running hurriedly up the stairs, and rushing into my room. Your eyes were red and puffy, your sobs were loud and painful. You told me how you waited hours for him, but he never showed. You told me you actually went over to his house, to see if he might be sick, or maybe he might have forgotten. You told me you caught him home with another girl. You cried so hard Emily. You had had a crush on him since middle school. You thought he was special and nice, cute and funny, but he turned out to be a jerk. He broke your heart Emily, he made you cry. So I got up and marched over to his place, banged angrily on his door. He answered without a care in the world, and Emily, I made sure he cried; I kneed him right where it hurts.

He was the last one crying, Emily, not you.

I was nineteen, and you were twenty-one. It was the day where you met the love of my life, the beat to my heart, he was my everything. We were at my house and just about to leave to meet you at the restaurant, when the doorbell rang - it was you. You had probably misunderstood, and came to my house instead. Sam opened the door. I don't think I need to go into detail, because I'm pretty sure this is the only thing you'll ever remember. After all it was the day you met your soul mate, MY boyfriend, MY life, MY everything. One look and you were gone. You were done. He was done. I knew, I always knew Emily, you were my sister, I knew all your expressions and all your emotions. I saw the sadness in your eyes when Sam rushed out the door. I saw the longing and desire. Your body was already half out of the door, when you thought it was too much for you. You turned your back on me Emily. You left me.

I was the last one crying, Emily, not you.