The start of high school was difficult for me, as my stepsister and I began fighting almost every day. At first, I was excited when I heard she was moving from Mississippi to live with us to finish her Senior year, since we would only see each other periodically in the summer. She came just in time before Christmas. During a brief catch-up, I told her I was in a complicated situation and didn't know how to manage it. I thought she would understand my feelings, but instead, she insisted on "freeing" me from them by telling my family that I was sexually assaulted a few months back. I felt hurt, angry, and betrayed. I was scared of being judged by my Jamaican family and losing the respect that I fought hard to earn. Every other day, we argued back and forth, throwing shady remarks or completely ignoring each other. One night, I came home and saw she had left me a letter on my bed telling me she had run away. I blamed myself, melted down, and was sent to the hospital for suicidal ideation. I was away for a month. During my stay, my mother told me that my stepsister had planted the letter in my bed, knowing I'd react so she could run away to see a guy that night. My angst quickly turned into anger. Coming out, she tried to console me, but I already had enough. I screamed at her to never talk to me again if she continued to cause so much trouble for me. And then she ran away again the next morning. Considering what she did before, I left it alone, until I heard she got a friend to book her a plane ticket to Memphis. I told myself my parents would stop her before she went or hold the “friend” accountable and ask him to send her back. But she left. And it was the last time I spoke to her. After staying in the city for 2 days, she died from a fentanyl overdose. Through the rest of my freshman year, I struggled with major depression. I tried mood-stabilizing medicine, but I never felt any positive progress. I wanted to blame everyone for not trying hard enough to keep her around, for lacking patience, but then I realized that I could’ve been that person for her; I could’ve made an effort to keep her around; I could’ve communicated my feelings better; I could’ve listened and learned her perspective. She was suffering too. From then on, I promised myself to make a change in my demeanor. Through my sister, I learned that forgiveness wasn't only for the other person, but for ourselves. I assumed she was ruining my life, but she stepped in and saved it. Instead of staying quiet, she pushed me to use my voice and hold my abuser accountable. He's now facing 10 years. From then on, I wanted to inspire others to use their voice too. In my junior year, I became a mentor for my school's Teen Truth program, providing social-emotional lessons to underclassmen to guide them through their high school journey. I felt like I was becoming the outlet I needed my freshman year, and seeing that in myself has expanded my passion for helping others. As a future Psychology student, I aim to use my education to become a therapist, provide professional support, and encourage others to use their voice. I want to bring my community together by destigmatizing mental health services and uplifting the next generation to speak confidently against adversity.