“Be careful what you wish for.”
The words echo in my head, even as I try to drown them out with the blaring rock music coming from the earphones secured in my ears. My heart is twisted in agony as I lie in the darkness of my room, a place I have vowed to stay in forever. It has been two weeks since my life was forever changed, and I am still unable to face the world. I can still remember the day so clearly, the day that I was approached by death’s warning. Tears collect in my eyes and I roll over, to bury my face in my cool pillow. It was a warning that I had completely ignored and because of my ignorance, I’ll never see her again. Sister…
Three weeks earlier
“Sissy, sissy,” I suck in a deep breath and try to calm my mood as I turn to look down at my little sister, the very person I was searching for, “sissy, look what mommy got me.” I look at the doll that she raises up in the air as high as she can so that I’ll have a better view.
“That’s nice.” My voice is emotionless.
“Sissy, I picked it out because it-”
“I don’t really care about the stupid doll, Adora.” I ignore the way her face crumbles. “Did you take my white tank-top that I just got yesterday?”
Her eyes widen and her face turns white. “It’s in my room.” At the sudden fear that is showing on her face, my anger rises.
“What did you do this time?” I demand as I stomp down the hallway and into her small room. Glitter pens, glue, and construction paper is strung everywhere. I can feel my face turning red with anger as I see my shirt and the reason behind all the arts and craft equipment.
“Your shirt was too plain. I made it pretty.” Adora exclaims as she races ahead of me and grabs the shirt. “See sissy, it’s me and-”
I snatch the shirt from her, and stalk off to my own room, slamming the door behind me. I toss the shirt to the side and try to calm my anger. How could one little girl be such a big headache?
One week later
I walk, staring down at the sidewalk as it passes beneath my feet. My house is only a block away and I dread even going back there to find what kind of surprise that chaotic six year old has waiting for me this time. I really don’t get her. She is such a selfish brat. I wish that she would just-
I raise my eyes from the sidewalk to look ahead and as I do, my body suddenly collides with another. I let out a low grumble of protest as I fall backwards. I hit the cement hard, but somehow manage to ignore the awful pain as I gaze at the person across from me, who also fell. I race to my feet and quickly help the elderly lady up.
“I am so sorry, ma’am. Are you hurt?” At my question, she only stares at me, her face blank.
My heart quickens as I stare back. Her eyes are a deep gray. I’ve never seen such eyes. I can feel every hair on my body standing as a chill ripples along my spine. What is happening to me? I feel as though she is looking into my very soul, seeing things that I can’t even see.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Her voice is just as expressionless as her face, yet that impassiveness seems to hold some sort of significance of its own.
My eyes are wide as she simply walks past me, not once looking back at me. I want to demand a reason for her choice of words, but I can’t seem to get my mouth to work. So I just tell myself that she’s a crazy old hag. It had nothing to with the way my thoughts were headed at all. I sigh, the tension in my body relaxing and walk the rest of the way home.
Five minutes later, I am entering my room. I take my jacket off and head over to my closet to hang it up. I open the door and what I find, has my face redder than ever. All of my neatly organized clothes are in a tangled heap on the floor, the rod that they hang on, broken.
“Adora!” I cry and race to her room where I find her sitting cross-legged on the floor drawing a picture.
“Sissy,” She smiles, happily and jumps to her feet, the paper held tightly in her hand, “Look what I-”
“Adora, I can’t stand you!” I scream at her, tears of anger racing down my cheeks.
“Huh?” She looks up at me with wide blue eyes.
“I wish-” The elderly lady’s face appears in my mind, her words echoing my head.
“Sissy, I’m sorry.” Adora starts to cry. She takes a step toward me, and as she does, she trips over an open container of pink paint that spills onto my shoes.
“No, Adora. I can’t stand you! I wish that you would just disappear!” I shout. The sheet of paper slips from her hand as her face turns white as snow. I stomp on the paper, ripping it and splattering pink paint on its edges. Then I race to my room to clean up the mess in my closet.
The next day, I’m sitting on the couch in the living room when my father races into the house, his face twisted in agony. I glance up at him, wandering what on earth is wrong? But he doesn’t seem to see me as he walks right past.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” I ask, getting up and following him into the hallway, where he goes to his room and returns about fifteen minutes later with a small suitcase.
“Oh, Elaina,” Tears start to roll down his cheeks as he draws me into his arms holding me tightly, “It’s terrible.”
“What?” I demand.
“Your mother and Adora were in a wreck.”
“Adora.” My voice is a whisper.
“Adora, my poor little girl.” His tears suddenly turn into loud heart-wrenching sobs.
The next two days go by in a haze. My mother is physically fine. She was kept in the hospital for only a day. Mentally though, both her and my father, are falling a part. My little sister passed on without any pain. It seems that she left all of the pain behind for us to deal with. I haven’t been able to cry yet. The tears just won’t come. My heart feels like it’s been cut open. It’s hard to eat and it’s hard to sleep.
Today is the funeral. I dread it. I walk from my room and step into my sister’s, where I find my mother sitting on the small bed staring at a piece of paper in her hand. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes.
“Elaina, come here and look at this.”
I do and my heart speeds. It is a picture of two girls, holding hands. Both are smiling. It’s Adora and me. Tears fill my eyes as I stare at it. It’s been taped up where it had been ripped. There’s pink paint on the edges and in big bold colors at the top of the page reads, “I luv Sissy.”
“I stomped on it, because she destroyed my closet.” I whisper to my mom.
“Huh?” She looks at me. “You mean the broken rod?”
“Yeah?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Adora didn't do that, sweetie. It happened when I was hanging some of your clothes up. I completely forgot about that. I was just so busy with work."
“What?” My heart sinks in my chest.
“And you know why she picked this dolly out?” My mother smiles through her tears as she shows me the same doll that Adora had shown me a week ago. “She said it looked just like her big sissy. If she had this dolly then she would feel like her big sissy was always with her.”
Hours later, I stand before my sister’s open casket, wearing a black skirt and the white tank-top that she had made so much prettier for me. I look down at the picture that she had drawn on it with a light blue glitter pen. It is another picture of her and me. All the things that she’d done that had so annoyed me, she’d only meant to make me happy. I gaze at her peaceful looking expression and with my heart crying, I place the doll she’d just gotten by her side.
“So your big sissy will always be with you.” I explain to her with a strangled cry. “I love you.”
In the midst of my tears and the preachers depressing voice and words of happiness and joy, I feel someone’s eyes drilling holes into me. I look up to meet the gaze of a pair of deep gray eyes that seem to ensnare my soul once more. It only takes a moment for realization to dawn on me and I find that I don’t really like that realization at all. Adora was gone, because of me.
“Be careful what you wish for.”
I have a little sister and i always get into fights with her.
