Sage never gave in. At least, that's what I tell everyone now. It's how I want her to be remembered. Because she didn't when it matters most, and that's all that matters.

But, to tell the truth, she always caved for me. She let me see the world first, even if it meant she had to wait an extra two minutes. The bright hospital room glared at me, and as I cried I had smiles and cooing voices to comfort me. But when our uncles and aunts tell the story of our birthday now, nobody can quite remember if Sage cried or not. Uncle Danny said she didn't, Aunt Merriweather said she did. They only remember the color of Basil's wrap, how much Basil weighed, all Basil, Basil, Basil. But in my mind, I don't think Sage cried-- she would've simply given in to the light. That's simply how she was.

As we grew up, it was almost as if Sage was the older sibling. I may have walked first, and I may have talked first, but Sage always gave first. But her giving was never as loud as my demanding babble, crying grape juice tears as Sage handed over her's.

Later, Basil won the trophies as Sage cheered in the stands. Basil got into fights, and Sage went and tattled, saving him from a broken nose only to be spat upon. Basil locked himself in his room, while Sage slid cards through the cracks and waited for him to emerge.

It was also Sage who told me not to smoke, but stayed with me even when I didn't listen. But somehow, it was Sage who got cancer. Sage, who always followed the rules and looked after her older brother. Even when I cried into her hospital sheets sobbing sorry's that could do nothing, it was Sage who told me it would be alright. It was Sage whose smile wobbled as she saw her beautiful auburn hair fall to the ground, but kept smiling nonetheless. It was Sage who told everyone not to tell Basil that she was fading away like the summer green leaves.

As she hacked away her last breaths, she defied death as I broke to pieces beside her. I stood over her bed and begged him not to take her, that I would protect her. But Sage had never needed my protection and I could not shield her from the cells that rebelled inside, and as I awoke the next morning her body was cold and the light in her eyes had shriveled. And as two became one I had to reconcile myself with the empty room across the hall that still faintly smelled of sunlight and the ghosts of guilt that lingered over my head.

And for once, it was Sage who left first and Basil had to learn to acquiesce to death's demands.