"Hey, Happy birthday!" I manage to utter, feeling guilty for not sending a present or card. "What are you going to do today? Anything fun?" She replies that her son is coming to see her and the whole family is going out to eat. "Sounds like fun!" I say, as I feign enthusiasm. I can't hardly be that happy, I haven't spent time with my family for years.

"Hey" she quietly says "Just between me and you...." I ask her to repeat herself as I can't hear her over my son's shrill noises that come from the excitement of being a toddler. "Just between me and you... I tried to slit my wrists this morning" My mind races and half of me doesn't want to believe it. Is she doing this for attention? For sympathy? Or is she serious and really needs my help? "Jenn..." I hear, and I snap back to attention. "Why did you do that?" I say, with hurt, almost anger in my voice, "How did you do it? Did you cut on yourself or were you trying to kill yourself?"

Suddenly,she goes all bobble-headed on me. Randomly saying "I don't know" with a side order of "Well, I was depressed". Not what I wanted to hear, but exactly what I expected. I drilled her further on the whens and wheres and whys. "Please don't tell anyone, ok? Pinky promise...", She whined. "Ok" I said, half heartedly, not knowing if I would be true to that.

I'm frantic and I'm spinning. I need someone to talk to but my husband's work as usual never answers the phone. Of all days for him to leave his cell phone in the car. I wonder what he'll think when he sees the 15 missed calls. He'll think I'm crazy. I don't care.

Finally, a realization comes to me, maybe from my heart. Maybe from the years of social workers, therapists, counselors. That one little line I heard countless times. "I keep everything you tell me confidential, unless is about hurting yourself, hurting someone else, or you know someone is going to get hurt" I have to do something. Everyone thought my threats were idle when I went through this. Look where it got them, and me.

I call my grandmother's house once again to be greeted with my sister's voice, sounding a bit more cheerful now. "Isaiah is here! He's getting so big. Do you want to talk to him?" she twitters as she quickly shoves him on the phone before I can reply. "Hey, sweetie, tell your mommy that killing herself is stupid." I wanted to say, but I dealt with the cooing and babbling long enough to get her back on the phone. "Is Grandma home yet?" I sigh, " I need to talk to her about something" I'm nervous and my hands are shaking. Does she know that I'm going to tell them? Does she know I'm about to take her secret and put it under a spotlight? "No, not yet" she says and she can't tell when she will be back. "Ok, well I'll just call back later" I hastily say as I search for my mother's number.

I speak with my mother carefully. It's always like walking on a tight-rope, talking to this woman. One wrong step, one wrong word, and she's angry, offended, and hangs up. I tell her what's happened with Crystal and she promises to talk to my Grandmother about it when they come to pick her up. I talk to my friend on instant messenger, but he doesn't seem to care much more than saying "Wow, that's awful", but I know he's busy with work so I can't be hurt.

All I can do is wait and hope that someone in my family will have the kindness to call me and let me know what's going on.

I take a shower to help myself relax, but I can't stop thinking about it. Everything. Hot water rushes over my long chestnut hair smoothing it down. As I run my fingers through it, I think about how much dead people scare me. I can't imagine seeing my sister there, in a coffin. Her swollen face, pasty, too much makeup from the mortuary makeup artist. Everyone crying or quietly lugubrious.

I don't get a call until the following morning. "It's your mom" my husband says, sounding annoyed. I greet her with, "Hey Mama, what's going on?" as I brace myself. I hop up to sit upon the countertop in the kitchen as I listen to her. "It's about Crystal" she says, sounding dismal "She took a bunch of pills last night."

My head screams "I knew it, I knew she wouldn't be safe when she was with Grandma. I knew they wouldn't watch her. Why doesn't anyone listen to me? She should have been put in a hospital immediately upon admitting she tried to kill herself. My family is made of fucking idiots.

My mother continues to explain to me what happened but I'm only half listening. My mind is racing and I'm so angry that I want to cry. "She took about 100 sleeping pills and then Grandma had to beat it out of her to get her to tell what she'd done" Why didn't anyone listen to me? Why didn't they put her somewhere safe? "She's in the hospital now, they said those pills weren't toxic, so she can just pretty much sleep it off. She's going to a center after they release her from the hospital" There are so many shotguns in that house, Grandpa just loves to hunt. What about that collection of knives they have? She wouldn't even have to improvise a way. " I just figured I'd call you since I don't think anyone else has." she ended. "Oh yes, thank you so much, Mama.", I mutter " No one ever calls me about anything really"

"You remember when you were like this?" my mother reminds. "Yes I do, and I told Crystal how stupid and selfish a thing it was to do, but I know how it is, and I knew what I said didn't matter." I reply.

Maybe it's the stupid jealous sister bit in me, but I can't help but notice how much she cares when this happens with Crystal. She couldn't care less when it happened with me.

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