Bella, by Eloise Francis

I sat down on Bella’s bed, careful not to disturb the left side. I’d avoided my sister’s room for three months after she was found, unable to bare it. She had overdosed on the sleeping pills that her psychiatrist had prescribed. My mum swears that it was an accident, that Bella would never take her own life. But I knew how depressed she had been. Then, I felt someone touch my shoulder. I turned around expecting to see mum trying to comfort me. But, instead, I saw Bella. “It’ll be okay brother,” she said with a sweet smile, “I promise.”