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The recent death of my sister has numbed the feeling of family and friends alike. Tragically she was killed while driving home from work by a drunk driver. We took consolation in the knowledge that her death was sudden, and she didn’t suffer. Weeks after the accident, well past the funeral service, every night, my parents cry over the loss of their daughter.

While in her room, taking in the fact she was truly gone, I slipped into a pair of her sweats and one of her baggy shirts she loaned me once to feel like she was still here. I inhaled deeply and took in her familiar scent, which reminded me of memories with her.

“Celia is that you?” a sniffling man asked at the doorway. I froze in spot, unable to break the news again to my father that I wasn’t Celia. “I’ve missed you so much, honey.”

I fought back the tears, and without thinking in the most feminine voice I could muster, I replied, “I am daddy.”

Maybe it was the grief or denial, but one lie snowballed into a change for my life. I was no longer a Brady but instead forced to live life as my sister Celia. Her friends too fell for the blatant lie, but after the tears and hugging, it made it harder to tell them I wasn’t Celia. For now, I live my sister’s life. I hang out with her friends, the attention is entirely on me, and everyone refers to me as Celia. As for Brady, he’s disappeared, but like I always speculated, no one cared. I just hope I’m making my sister proud.

Description
If you could, please provide feedback, so I can create better caption stories! If you like what you see follow me here and robinstgcaptions.blogspot.com/ for more caption stories. Thank you for viewing and have a great day!

The recent death of my sister has numbed the feeling of family and friends alike. Tragically she was killed while driving home from work by a drunk driver. We took consolation in the knowledge that her death was sudden, and she didn’t suffer. Weeks after the accident, well past the funeral service, every night, my parents cry over the loss of their daughter.

While in her room, taking in the fact she was truly gone, I slipped into a pair of her sweats and one of her baggy shirts she loaned me once to feel like she was still here. I inhaled deeply and took in her familiar scent, which reminded me of memories with her.

“Celia is that you?” a sniffling man asked at the doorway. I froze in spot, unable to break the news again to my father that I wasn’t Celia. “I’ve missed you so much, honey.”

I fought back the tears, and without thinking in the most feminine voice I could muster, I replied, “I am daddy.”

Maybe it was the grief or denial, but one lie snowballed into a change for my life. I was no longer a Brady but instead forced to live life as my sister Celia. Her friends too fell for the blatant lie, but after the tears and hugging, it made it harder to tell them I wasn’t Celia. For now, I live my sister’s life. I hang out with her friends, the attention is entirely on me, and everyone refers to me as Celia. As for Brady, he’s disappeared, but like I always speculated, no one cared. I just hope I’m making my sister proud.