"Amy, please don't do this," I pleaded with her. "Let's just go."
"No!" she cried out indignantly. "I want to stay. If you want to go home, fine. Just don't expect me to come."
My younger sister was ruining her life on drugs and alcohol and there was nothing I could do, no one I could tell. The instant she knew I had found out about her crazy life she had sworn me to secrecy. "You can't tell Mom or Dad. Please, Becks? Promise you won't tell anyone." So I had promised, and she had promised to stop, yet here we were, a year and a half later, and I could see nothing had changed. She still spent her Sundays in bed, with the worst hangovers I have ever seen. She was still hurting the ones she loved, with each new mistake that she made. I loved her, but god, she made me angry sometimes. If only she could see what she was doing to her body. This was too far, this was the final straw.
"Amy, I have to go." I tried one more time to make her come.
"Bye." She spat out bitterly.
But as I left, one thought clouded my mind. As bad as Amy's secret was, it was nothing compared to mine.