The Butterfly Effect (Rewritten)

Chapter Seven - Dear Sister of Mine

I always knew my sister as robotic whenever it came to our relationship. Occasionally, I would see Megan with her friends at school. It was the one place I ever saw Megan happy. It was the only place I would see her laugh, smile, and gaze at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky. I had assumed she wasn't happy at home because of what happened after the crash. The aftermath left us with a single, working mother and Megan with a "mental" sister that had to be babysat and taken to therapy appointments. Besides, she was two years older than me. We had nothing in common. I knew it must have been easy for her to hate me, but it never used to be like that.

When we were little, Megan and I did everything together. We watched princess movies, played with dolls, and dressed up in our mom's clothes. I wasn't sure when that ended. Even after Jason turned his back on me in middle school, Megan tried to be supportive. I don't think my sister gave up on me until I started to self-harm. I could still picture Megan's face when she discovered it. I confided in her about the cutting. Megan shook me by the shoulders and screamed at me about how I could do that to myself. There was nothing but betrayal in Megan's eyes. Then she ran off and told our parents. Things had never been the same since that day.

"A year of therapy went by," I told Divina. "Megan and I stopped talking during that time. When we finally spoke again, I knew she hated me. She was pretty clear on that."

"She's still your family. Perhaps there's more to it than you know," Divina answered.

"Maybe."

I would have refused the optimism, but after everything I'd seen so far maybe anything was possible.

"Would you like to find out?"

I peered through the window of the hospital room. "This is the present?"

"Yes, everything you see is occurring in real time."

"What do they think is happening to me?"

"They believe you are suffering from a coma induced by hypoxia; the lack of oxygen to tissue. Which in this case, is your brain. This coma is the only thing allowing you to travel from Purgatory and witness the timelines first-hand. But your body will eventually shut down. The doctors have little hope for your survival. Of course, that all depends on you."

I took a deep breath and walked in by myself.

The room was a dull peach color. Cream curtains were spread wide open, allowing the sun to shine in. A heartbeat monitor tracked the steady pumping of a heart in the background. A girl laid in the bed with her eyes closed. White tape clung to her face in order to stabilize the tube in her mouth. The intubation allowed her chest to move with a consistent rise and fall. The respirator hissed as if it knew it was the last thing keeping her alive. It was my body, and I wasn't the only one in the room with it. At the side of the bed was an olive-toned girl with dark locks. The girl scowled at the bed-ridden version of me.

"I hate you for this," Megan seethed, "don't you know how well you had it? You never had to be the perfect child! Everything was always about you!"

I flinched.

Megan went on, her stare could have set my body on fire. "Do you have any idea what you did? You sent Dad running for the hills, and then you took Mom! Ever since your stunt with cutting it's always been about precious little Emory! 'Megan, don't stress Emory, it's not good for her health! Megan, make sure you give Emory a ride to school, she can't drive herself!' 'Megan, make sure Emory takes her meds!' The only time Mom ever talked to me is when it has something to do with you! I'm so sick of it! I'm not your babysitter! I tried so hard to make up for everything!" Megan's eyes began to water. "Look," her voice cracked, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." she took a shaky breath. "I'm angry, I'm dizzy, and I'm tired all the time... There's something wrong with me, and if you knew you'd understand... I never should have left you alone. This is all my fault."