No one liked Anissa. She thought it was because everyone else was jealous of her exceptional beauty and talent, but honestly, Anissa was just another untalented, over tanned, collection of hairspray and makeup. She bitched and moaned constantly about every little slight, real or imaginary, and most were not real. For this reason Anissa had no real friends. She was petty, rude and selfish, and would give you the shirt off her back if it meant she would look like a hero. Facebook and cell phones were wonderful tools for Anissa to create drama and attention for herself. Once she grew bored of her little attention ploy, she simply ended it. No discussions to mend hurt feelings, no apologies, no regrets. She then behaved as though she had never created an uproar over nothing, and expected everyone to follow suit.

   She expected her family to do whatever she wanted them to do. On a regular basis, Anissa demanded that her father drop everything and give her a ride, even though she was fully capable of using public transportation. And for the longest time, he simply gave in. It was easier to leave work to give Anissa a ride to the mall than it was to deal with her histrionics for days afterword. Her mother was the same. If Anissa complained at the dinner table that her steak was too well done for her tastes, her mother would silently jump up and cook her another one.

  So I was quite surprised to see the entire town rally around her in support when she developed leukemia. It seemed like there was a fund raiser jar on every counter in town, plastered with her pouty face. People who had just a week before gossiped behind her back and avoided her on the street were heard saying, "Oh yeah, Anissa and I go way back. She's one of my closest friends." or "Poor dear. such a terrible thing to happen to such a sweet girl." Gag me.

  And of course Anissa just loved it. She played up every ache and pain, and used her illness to her advantage. People no longer turned around and went the other direction when they say her coming, and she received plenty of attention from everyone she knew. Everyone loves a poster child.

  Soon it was time to start chemotherapy. We all expected her to cry and moan when her hair fell out, and then log onto the computer and buy as many hats and scarves as she could. What we did not expect was that she was so incredibly vain that she would refuse treatment. *GASP* Refuse treatment for a life threatening illness? Unheard of! She was only 21 and had her whole life ahead of her. She was adamant- she wouldn't do it. She would rather die than to lose her bleached blonde tresses, even if only for a while. And so she did, but not until she suffered a long, painful, and undignified death. Toward the end, I think she finally realized her mistake, but by then it was too late. A wise expression adorned her worn grayish face, and tears wet her cheeks. This show of emotion was not like the others before she became sick. There was no yelling, no screaming, no wild accusations, no demands that mommy and daddy fix the mess she had made for herself. Her tears were not for the pain she suffered every moment, for she had become so accustomed to pain by now. Now she cried only in mourning for all she had given up. She cried for her lost future. I wonder sometimes if while in her death bed she had thought about all of the people she hurt with her games and tantrums. I wonder if she was genuinely sorry for how she treated people.

  In the end, her hair had grown thin and scraggly, and dark roots had grown long, a stark contrast to her customary platinum blonde color. All of her past time spent in under the lights of the tanning bed were for naught now. not only had her tan faded, but her complexion took on a chalky paleness that those near death seem to always acquire. Sh had lost so much weight that sh appeared little more than a skeleton covered in skin. She certainly did not leave a beautiful corpse.

  Of course she had a beautiful funeral, and in the eyes of the community, she was now a saint. People now only speak of her fondly, and I remain disgusted by their amnesia. I'm glad she's dead. She was horrible person. I would know, she was my twin sister.