I hop into the passenger's side of my best friend's car and simultaneously buckle my seatbelt and crank up the A.C. Matt and I begin to laugh about how we're never going to find a summer job that pays more than seven dollars an hour. I can hardly even see him through my squinted eyes as I remember how mad I am at my sister for taking my sunglasses to work that morning. I hear my cell phone ringing and begin plunging through my purse in order to find it. I look at the caller I.D. and feel the anxiety caused by the letters MOM on the screen of my phone. I roll my eyes and think, "Did she actually go into my room and see that I didn't clean it before I left?" I pick it up on the last ring and hear my mom crying. Crying is all I hear. She says that Leslie has been in a wreck and is on her way to the hospital. I can't think straight. I can't even breathe. Matt turns to me with a panicked look on his face as he asks me what's wrong. I quickly tell him to go to the hospital. The entire drive there I have this horrible feeling that my twin sister is dead. Then and there I came to realize how often I take my life and the people in it for granted.
             Never in my life have I thought that I would be without my sister. Luckily, I still don't know what it is like to live without her. Growing up with Leslie, I have always had a best friend. I remember when we were little, we had this big plan to go to the same
             college, marry twins at a joint wedding, live in a duplex together, and die of old age together. We figured since we were born at the same time, we could easily die at the same time, also. As ridiculous and unattainable as that childhood plan seems now, it reminds me of how close we really are as sisters and as friends. Up until her wreck, I had thought that our closeness somehow could shield us from wrongdoings. I had believed our friendship gave us invulner
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