I press the call light on her bed and yell for someone to help her.
“Sunshine, you’re okay. I’m right here. You were in an accident. You were intubated. I need you to calm down until they can get that taken out.”
A team of nurses and doctors rush into her room. One of the nurses grabs my arm, ushering me to the door. “Sir, we’re going to need you to go to the waiting area.”
“I love you, Sunshine. I’ll be right back, Kenna,” I raise my voice gently, only so she can hear me over the chaos.
I turn to the nurse and tell her, “You can’t tell her about Katie. It has to come from me or her family. No one else should tell her.”
14
September
It’s the morning of Katie’s celebration of life. Katie has been gone for six days now. We wanted to wait until after McKenna was discharged from the hospital on Thursday to do anything. It’s Sunday now. The day of rest. But I can’t rest—can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t fucking breathe—knowing that my baby sister will never do those things again.
My teammates came from Boston and are currently filling every inch of my childhood home’s living room. I’d normally make a witty remark to lighten the mood; that’s typically my role on the team. But I don’t know how to feel anything anymore. I’m broken beyond repair.
I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m numb, my head void of feelings, my heart a boulder in my chest.
The sound of McKenna’s pleading cries as she choked and gasped for breaths between sobs has reverberated in my head since Carson and I broke the news to her. The agonizing symphony is like a ringing in my ears, drowning out everyone who tries to speak to me.
Like right now. Maks is talking to me; I know he is because he’s facing me, making eye contact, and his lips are moving. But I couldn’t tell you what he’s prattling on about for the life of me.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask him, not really caring if he repeats himself.
Maks doesn’t get upset. He just repeats, “I said, do you want one of us to drive you and your dad to the gymnasium?”
“Oh. No, my dad said he got a car service to take us there and then to the burial after. But thanks.”
“Of course. Just let us know what you need, G. We’re here for you,” Maks says before slapping me on the shoulder. He rounds up the rest of the guys, and together, they carpool to my former high school’s gymnasium.
My dad and I decided to have Katie’s celebration of life at a place she loved and where she spent most of her time. Abbott University offered for us to use their facilities, but it didn’t feel right knowing Katie had only played there for a few weeks.
The ride to her celebration, if you can even call it that, is filled withuncomfortable silence. If it hasn’t involved Katie’s funeral, we’ve hardly spoken to each other since Monday.
Once we arrived at the school, my dad and I were ushered into the gymnasium by a few faculty members who were Katie’s former teachers. The community has taken the news of Katie’s death hard, and the outpouring of support has meant a lot to my dad and me. Once we got approval to have her funeral at the high school, there were dozens of volunteers offering their assistance to make this come together.
Before we took our seats, I looked around the packed gymnasium. It’s at maximum capacity, meaning over two thousand people are in attendance today. It’s heartbreaking to think the last time I saw this space look like this was at Katie’s graduation ceremony. Now,thatwas a cause for celebration. How can we sit here and lie to ourselves by calling this a celebration of life? How can anyonecelebratethe thoughtless murder of my only sister? One man decided to selfishly drive himself home when he was wasted off his ass instead of calling one of the dozens of ride-shares. The injustice is that he will likely only get three to four years in prison before he’s back on the roads.
I follow my dad to the front row of seats and then sit beside him. My grandma, grandpa, aunts, uncles, and cousins are already seated on my dad’s other side. I look over at the empty seats on my other side just as McKenna and her family are ushered into our row.
Kenna sits down beside me. She grabs ahold of my hand like it’s her life preserver. In some ways, I feel like we are each other’s life preservers. I’m not sure what I would’ve done had she not woken up—if we were laying two people to rest today. It’s a revolting thought I can’t bear to have.
McKenna
I can’t help but envision my portrait next to hers, an urn full of my ashes beside hers. It’s a sick world to have to wake up from a coma and find out you’ve lost your best friend. Katie was my person—she was so much more than my best friend. She was a living extension of myself. Now she’s gone. And I had to fucking wake up here without her.
A part of me died with her that night. I’m barely hanging on. I wish I could take her place. It should’ve been me.
“Thank you for coming to join us in celebrating the life of Katie Anne Turner, who tragically passed away earlier this week at the age of eighteen. Katie was a beloved daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, friend, and teammate.” I hear the pastor’s voice drown in and out of the chaos and guilt that have consumed my mind since I woke up earlier this week.
I faintly hear the pastor’s sermon preaching about Katie finding peace in heaven with our Heavenly Father and her mother. But doesn’t he understand? She had peace here with us—me, Jack, Griffin, Carson—her friends, and family. She’s being laid to rest against her will.
“Now, the eulogy, which was written by her brother, Griffin, will be read by Katie’s best friend, McKenna.”
Taking a deep breath, I stand on shaky legs, giving myself a moment to get my balance. Without missing a beat, Carson stands and escorts me up the stage’s steps to the podium set-up. It looks just like the night of our graduation ceremony.
I take one more steadying breath before reciting the words Griffin wrote about his Katie Cat. When he asked me to read the eulogy on his behalf, I jumped at the chance to support him, in an effort to lessen his burden. I’m only now regretting my hasty agreement as I stare out into the packed gymnasium to find a sea of people dressed in white, per Jack and Griffin’s request.
