Goodbye, sister

It was my sixth birthday. My parents took me to the beach, and we never came home. They were swept away by a riptide, their bodies never recovered.

After that, my sister, Sarah, kicked me out. She said I was a jinx, a bad omen, that I’d ruined her life.

The day I died, I called her one last time, my voice trembling. "Sarah," I begged, "I'm dying. Can you please come help me?"

She was at the movies with her boyfriend, Ethan. Her last words to me were, "Tell me when you're dead."

So I did.