Trusted Family

This story is by Carrie O’Keefe and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

Ashley, my sister, was a good person until five years ago when our parents passed away in an accident. We were the only family the two of us had left. Afterwards, she began taking drugs, and it’s always poor me. I can’t live without them. I got her counseling and supported her through our loss. It proved a difficult time for the both of us. I find it amazing that the two of us, only two years apart, growing up in the same household, can turn out so differently.

No matter how hard I tried, Ashley wouldn’t leave the drugs alone. Her changing moods became more and severe; you would never know how to act around her, for she might react in a way not suited for the situation. She went through extreme highs and lows within a matter of days. When our parents died, she had all kinds of friends. One by one, they dropped out of her life. I don’t blame them; she would barrow money from them and not repay it. She would even throw temper tantrums at them if they wouldn’t give her money.

Ashley had a habit of vanishing for periods. I always wondered if she would end up in a ditch somewhere, but to my relief, she would always show back up. I made sure she had hot food and clean clothes to wear. Every time she came back and made progress, she would go back into her old habits again. I hate her sometimes so much that I pack up a bag of her belongings and hope she takes the hint that no one wants her here.

I might convince her to enter rehab, but what would be the point? I am so conflicted, get here to rehab and have a chance at a normal sibling relationship, or just let her do her thing and not have to worry about it anymore? The 90 days it took for Ashley to get out seemed so long. I had so many plans for us to do together. I shook with excitement, looking forward to having my sister as a roommate again and to spending holidays with her.

When I collected her, she remained silent. I sort of expected that, and I figured she would have to find her balance once more. I also realized it would be difficult for her to find friends and return to employment; therefore, I would require considerable patience.

It was nice to see her smile again and act.. well, normal again. She got a job and was helping around the apartment again. We went shopping together, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone questioning us because she had put something in her purse without paying. These negative habits ceased to be visible to me. It felt great to return to normal living.

Things changed a little. The so-called honeymoon period ended; things couldn’t be perfect forever. Ashley started hanging out with friends and having fun. No big deal, right? You wouldn’t think so. She never really mentioned who they were, and she never introduced them to anyone either, which I found strange.

I saw some of the classic signs. Ashley started missing work here and there and not coming home until I was in bed. She likely didn’t want me to observe her condition. When I tried speaking with her to learn about the progress, she would ignore me, saying matters were fine and there was no need for worry. Sometimes I think she would make up things like I have to meet up with a friend to help them out or go to work just to avoid talking with me. When I said that my jewelry had disappeared, she would claim I had put it in the wrong place.

I started leaving pamphlets around about drug abuse and getting help only to find them in the trash later. It wasn’t long after that she stayed away for weeks at a time again. Ashley began showing up while I worked to take whatever food I possessed and then go. Once she came back and slept for two days before disappearing again.

I started receiving phone calls from people saying that she owed money to them, and I noticed a 20 or a 50 missing from my stash from time to time. Matters deteriorated, and I couldn’t figure out how to get her to go back into rehab.

The most frightening night I experienced through this situation occurred when a man appeared at my front door searching for her. He reeked as if he hadn’t showered for a month, and his dark clothes were dirty. The man said he wanted to collect a debt from Ashley, and his teeth were stained and rotten. After my explanation that I did not understand him, he told me to ask my sibling. He recognized who I was! He said that he would be back the following night and that he would get his money.

I spent the next three hours driving around looking for my sister and found her on the south side of town in one of her old hangouts. I knew she was high from the look in her eyes. Her hair was all stringy, and the black rings around her eyes showed she hadn’t showered or slept in days. I got her to go with me outside for us to speak in a more secluded place. You can guess that our conversation got a little out of hand. She told me it was her fault that our parents had died. She needed help with a problem that she couldn’t get out of. It all made sense the more she explained it to me. The more I understood, the less I wanted to try not to help her anymore. It is so hard to help someone who ended my parents’ lives. They tried to help her out of a mess, and she believes the accident wasn’t an accident after all. I know they loved both of us and would do anything to help us through anything we were going through.

She ended up taking me off guard with a nasty right hook to my eye. It threw me off balance, and she took off with my purse and car. It took me an hour to walk home that night. The chill in the air got to my bones and the smell of exhaust and rotting garbage from the alleyways filled my nostrils. I couldn’t believe that no one pulled over to offer me a ride once I got out of the bad part of town. Not that I would have accepted a ride from a stranger at night.

I had no choice but to call it in. Ashley had gone way too far, and I could no longer trust her. Someone used my ATM card twice for a cash withdrawal, and I never found my car. I suspect a chop shop probably acquired my car, so I’ll never have it. The police arrested the guy the following night when he tried to collect the money. That night I moved in with a friend of mine. Because my sibling was still out there, putting me in danger, I would not stay there.

It’s been six months now since all that happened, and I haven’t seen or heard from Ashley. I want my older sister back so badly. I miss her so much, and I still love her, but I cannot take the chance of letting her back in again but cannot allow her to stab me in the back or pull me down with her.