Our house was the center of the street. Brick. It was not that big, however people call it "a mansion". Our mom just thinks it is like a normal house. Three floors. Penthouse (top), Mezzanine (middle) and Lower Level (bottom). My sister's room was on the top. Going right two rooms over is her room. I don't have a room considering, well I'm dead. An angel of The Lord. I am the same as Gretta just a little shorter, an inch. She suffered much pain. 6 relatives of ours died. Gryfinndor, our dog that lasted till 6 years old until he had a tumor. Our grandmother and grandfather on our mom's side and our grandfather on our father's side. Our uncle Axel and of course, me. There is little of me is known to her, I only lasted a week. We were born in December. The 22nd, 2002. I died on January 14, 2003. They always take that day off for me. How does she handle this grief? She just does. Many of these relatives she didn't know. Not even I knew. To her, my death isn't grief it is simply sadness. Despite that she is great in school. Straight As better than I would if I was down there. Now, she's sixteen and has runaway from home and left a note for mom and dad that she was leaving for Gotham. That was that.