Chapter 2
Today marked five years since Noelle died.
The air felt heavier than ever.
My mom locked herself in Noelle's room early that morning and never came out.
I could hear muffled sobs and the sound of things being tossed around inside.
My dad sat in the living room, chain-smoking. The whole house smelled like smoke.
I didn't dare bother them. I stayed quiet and made some oatmeal in the kitchen.
When I stepped out with the bowl, my mom burst from the room. Her eyes were red and wild, like she had lost control.
She held one of Noelle's old little dresses. When she looked at me, it was like she was staring at something filthy.
"Get out of my way!" she shouted, shoving me hard.
The bowl slipped from my hands and smashed on the floor.
Hot oatmeal splashed onto the back of my hand, turning my skin red in seconds.
I pulled my hand back, the sting sharp and sudden, but I didn't make a sound.
My mom didn't even glance at me. She stormed straight to my dad and shoved the tiny dress in his face.
"For five years, I could only look at her things every day. It breaks my heart!" she cried.
"I can't take it anymore. I really can't!" she added.
She snapped completely, screaming as she pointed toward Noelle's room.
"Burn them. Burn everything. I never want to see any of it again!" she yelled.
"I don't want to live like this anymore!" she cried.
My dad stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and just stared at her in silence.
His face was etched with exhaustion and pain.
"Okay. I'll do what you want. We'll burn it. All of it," he said.
His voice was barely above a whisper, but it hit me like a sledgehammer.
If they burn Noelle's things, did that mean they were finally ready to let go of the past?
Did that mean there was still hope for this family?
A wild thought popped into my head.
Then they got to work.
My dad pulled out this massive, old-fashioned, and heavy canvas suitcase from the storage closet.
My mom completely lost her mind. She started throwing Noelle's stuff out of her room.
They were her books, stuffed animals, art albums, and all those cute little dresses.
Each one of those things was something I'd always envied.
I never got one thing that Noelle ever had.
Now, all those things were tossed on the floor like trash and then shoved into that dark suitcase.
I just stood there, feeling like an outsider, watching them say goodbye to their memories.
My mom's movements grew more frantic and desperate.
Finally, she picked up the crystal photo frame from the desk. It was Noelle's baby picture when she was just a month old.
The baby in the photo was smiling, looking so innocent and carefree.
My mom stared at the picture for what felt like forever. Her hands trembled, and big tears began to fall.
She choked out, "Noelle, I'm so sorry. I can't keep holding on."
Still crying, she tossed the photo frame into the suitcase.
Then, as if every bit of strength had left her, she collapsed onto the floor.
My dad walked over quietly, his steps heavy, getting ready to close the suitcase full of memories.
Suddenly, something inside me snapped.
I didn't even know why I acted.
Maybe I just wanted to breathe in the last bit of my little sister's scent, or I needed to say goodbye to the past in my own way.
While they were distracted, I sneaked over to the suitcase.
Then I curled up and hid myself inside.
I curled up inside it, hiding among the soft clothes and cold books, breathing in the faint smell of Noelle.
It smelled so good.
I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I felt it was five years ago, with Noelle still by my side.
She'd hold my hand tight and call me "Luciana" in that sweet, innocent voice.
If only time could stop right here.
Then, with a heavy thud, the suitcase slammed shut above me.
In an instant, the world turned pitch black and silent.
I heard the lock click shut with a sharp snap.
My heart skipped a beat.
My mom was so out of it that she probably didn't even see me crawl in.
She'd locked me in here by mistake.
Panic hit me like a wave. I pushed against the lid with all my strength.
"Dad. Mom. I'm in here!" I screamed.
"Open up. Let me out!" I cried.
I yelled and pounded on the inside of the suitcase.
But it was so thick that my voice couldn't escape.
The only thing that reached me from outside was my mom's heart-wrenching sobs.
"Burn all her things. I never want to see any of it again!" she screamed.
I heard my dad's slow, heavy footsteps as he dragged the suitcase across the floor.
The wheels scraped against the ground, screeching with every movement.
With each sound, my heart sank even deeper.
This couldn't be happening.
They wouldn't be so cruel to me.
They only wanted to burn Noelle's things. They didn't know I was inside.
I still had a chance.
I curled up in the dark corner of the suitcase and screamed with everything I had left.
"Dad. Mom. Please, help me!" I cried.
"I'm sorry. Please, let me out!" I begged.
But my mom was sobbing, and my dad was sighing heavily. My voice was completely drowned out.
Then I smelled a strong, harsh odor.
It was gasoline.
Cold liquid started seeping in through the cracks, soaking my clothes and killing off any hope I had left.
They were actually going to burn me.