Twizted Sisters for Three Sisters

I know you've hear the rumors about Middle Children in a family. Tough, under-loved, & a little rough around the edges. For the most part, I believe this to be the truth about me too, until this past weekend. It started about a week ago, when I began to hear nibbling & scratching in the heat vents in the ceiling. Hmm, I thought, I have a mouse. No biggie, I also have a cat, Sadie, who is evil. On Saturday morning I spent some time cleaning my beautiful bedroom when I noticed something crawling away from my cat; there he was! The mouse! I didn't want him to run away, & Sadie had no interest in him for some reason, so I grabbed the nearest jar in my room, shook out the giant wolf spider (I catch spiders ... it's a hobby), & proceeded to shoo the mouse into the jar with the spiked heel of my stiletto. Wow, monster mouse! So chubby & cute! Hmm, why is he moving so slowly? Wait .... I examined the mouse from the top. Yeah, he's fine ... then I looked from the bottom of the jar & my tummy did flips; my Sadie had played with the mouse, a little too vigouriously it seems as his tiny left leg had been torn nearly off of his body which had ripped open his stomach to trail his guts behind him. Ohmigod! I booked into the kitchen & let him crawl onto a clean dishcloth, where he curled up & closed his big brown eyes. Placing him on the heat vent for the stove (on the dishcloth), I turned the oven light on to keep him warm as I tried to think of a solution for his pain & suffering. Nothing, I came up with nothing; there was no way I could kill him, hit him with a shoe, put him in the freezer, chuck him into the field, nothing. So he sat on my stove, curled up in a warm cozy cloth, eyes closed & breathing slowly. Out of nowhere, I began to cry, & not just a couple tears, I cried like a bitch! There was nothing I could do for the mouse but comfort him as he lay dying, & that scared & saddened me. I watched his breathing shallow & become ragged; & he opened his eyes & looked around my kitchen with his tiny twitching nose, turning his little head towards me & blinked. He was taken by spasms as he died, his eyes still on me before he finally took his last breath & passed on. Sitting down, I cried & put the cloth with his small body on my lap & just sat there, thinking about death. I was terrified, I could feel panic rising up the back of my neck like the cold, sticky fingers of the Reaper, my skin was covered in goosebumps & I felt like I was going to be sick. But there was nothing I could do but sit & cry & be frightened. In my mind all I could picture was me dying, everything I would miss: my kids growing up, laughing with my sisters, maybe my wedding, becoming a grandmother, everything, & how I'd just be dust in a box & nothing but a memory that is eventually forgotten. This terrifies me. I know it would be better for me to turn around & celebrate life, enjoy every moment I have because I don't know when it will be my last (& one day it will be), but even now I cannot; I sit & cry like a scared child because I don't ever want to say goodbye to those I love, to my life, to everything that is uniquely me. To my children & my sisters, I love you more than anything this world will ever has to offer, you are my heart, my soul, everything that is me; if I die, never forget me, because I will never forget you.

Middle Sister

Mice to Mourn: 1

Lives to Live: Just one

Doses of Venlafaxine XR: 300mg Daily