Violet

My brother calls to my father from down the steps
His crys filled with woe
I followed
I wish I hadn't.

The shock was so powerful it hurts.
Was she asleep?
"Poke her."
No.

She was stiff.
Her limbs fused together.
A peaceful look rested on her face.
"She's dead."

I didn't understand it.
I still don't.
How can something that was just jumping on my lap hours before,
now be frozen for eternity?

My dad choked on his grief and demanded a fitting box be found.
My brother and I were pushed into motion.
We joked, and we laughed.
What else were we supposed to do?

I stood over her corpse.
Was she really dead?
and my brother passed me the box.
I picked her up, 2 legs per hand.

Closing up the box, I still couldn't think.
What would we do with her body?
How did she die?
Did I kill her?

My brother voiced his similar thoughts.
He started to cry, assuring me he accidentally starved her.
She was not starved.
In fact, she was a little overweight.

I still can't comprehend that she will no longer be pawing at the basement door.
She will no longer chase her sister around to play.
She will no longer lay in preposterous poses around the house.
She will no longer be able to live the long life we thought she would have.