My sister's name is Ally. In early August of this year she was killed at nineteen years old. I'm twenty. She was my best friend along with being my baby sister. A boy flipped his truck with my sister in the back after he had been drinking. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of her. I couldn't write how I feel or how much I think about her because there isn't enough time to ever truly show it. She was the most beautiful girl, the one girls were jealous of and guys fell head over heels for. She had the most outgoing personality and would make friends in any room she walked into. She would never hesitate to help anyone, regardless of what they had done to her. Even being the younger sister, she would look out for me and through everything in our life she would be that little ray of sunshine that made life worth it. Now she's gone and the pain doesn't get better. I love her with all my heart and now the only thing that makes days bearable is knowing every day is one day closer to her.