If there are alleys inside me, there must also be hallways. I walk slowly so I can feel my way, there’s no light in this hallway. I got this feeling, it’s not nice on the other end, yet, hesitantly, I still walk slowly to that side. I feel a door finally, when I open it, it’s-it’s me, it’s me from a year ago, my family and I are in that room- it’s a church filled with beautifully colored stained glass windows and long, wooden benches that were seated with my family, and his. I vividly remember that day, everyone was crying, crying over the loss of my baby brother. I remember the day, January 26th, 2017, the day before my 14th birthday.

Looking into that room with my memory playing inside, I felt heartbroken, I felt heartbroken for my mother, my siblings, I felt it for me. Looking into that room I saw the box and flowers that contain the ashes of my baby brother, the box was made by his sister’s husband; it was beautiful. Looking into that room made me remember that was the day when I realized that you never truly care for someone or something until that thing is gone. I lost three people on that dreadful day, my brother, my mother, and myself.

When I’m done looking at this hurtful reminder, I want to close this door, but it won’t shut. I try so hard to shut it but it is hesitant. Finally, it slams as though it was slammed by someone who was in anguish, and I stand for a moment clueless, then, I slowly turn around and try to feel my way to the next door in this dark hallway.