When I reread my essay "The Loss of My Sister" that I wrote, it makes me proud of myself to know that I was strong enough to write about a topic so close to me and to my family. I've always wanted to write my sister's story but never had the opportunity. I have always been calm about the situation I went through because I didn't want the pain and pity of others. Every time I told someone I have a dead sister they would say "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry" it makes me feel uncomfortable because I don't know if I say thank you or that's it Okay? Since I wrote about what happened I decided to write about how I am now without her. When I was younger I thought my sister would always be there. I never thought she would die so young. She died when I was in fifth grade, so I was about 10 or 11 years old. We've had our arguments and now I wish more than anything that she was here. She missed my first homecoming, my graduation, and many other important dates in my life and there will be more she will miss. Now that I'm the only child in my family, it's terrible why...