Underneath The Pillow

• Sarah Walliss, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2010

Anna Joy Lovefill is my name. I live underneath Britney Lovefill’s pillow. I watch over her and guide her in right direction. She speaks to me sometimes; I know she loves me so much, almost as much as I love her. Britney Lovefill is my older sister. When we were little she used to comb and braid my hair. I know we have a photo somewhere. I am warm, when she is cold, I gain, when she loses, I feel fine, when she feels pain, yet she cries for me. I cry when she cries though. It breaks my heart to see her sad. I wish I could still be with her to wipe those tears away.
Heaven is fine. It’s just like earth, except much easier. A comparison for death is you get on a train to a luxury island but you never return. The only thing that hurts is knowing that you’ll never see the people you love smile at you and waking up in the morning just to be alone, you feel as if a piece of you is missing. My missing piece is Britney. She wasn’t only my sister, she was my best friend.
“Anna,” Britney would sometimes cry.
Yes. I’m here. I’m listening, I thought.
“If you can hear me I want you to know I love you so much, I miss you with all my heart and I’m so sorry. I don’t know how many apologies it will take to make you forgive me but I will never ever forgive myself.”
I forgave Britney long ago. I was angry when it first happened, but didn’t want to leave feeling like that. After the crash, I was in a Coma for two days before I died. I couldn’t breathe by myself, I couldn’t speak or move but I could hear. When I was in a Coma, Britney read to me, she read her past diaries. Ever since she was young she wrote diaries about everything, especially me. If I could’ve laughed while she was reading to me I would have. If I hadn’t of been dying I would have been embarrassed, but lying on your death bed seems to make you think about the real qualities of life.
The car crash was horrible. The whole time I thought about Mum, Dad, my little brother Jackson and Britney. I feared not only for my life but for Britney’s. We were having fun driving along the Highway to Sydney, the radio was pumped up to our favourite song, the next thing we knew Britney had swerved and hit a truck. She had swerved because a trailer in front of us had let the furniture it was carrying go. I can remember lots of sirens and scared voices.
My name is Anna Joy Lovefill and I love under Britney Lovefill’s pillow, but as nothing more than a mere memory.