"Tell me now, what do you see?" My little sister pulled my sleeve and stared at me expectantly. What the hell was I supposed to say?
Then I saw it. The rainbow. Good, I thought, but not good enough to compensate for the stupid rain that made us miserably wet, since I forgot to bring an umbrella. And not good at all, in case Lilly got sick and mom killed me.
"Yeah, Lilly. It's beautiful. Now, let's go home, I'm freezing. I bet you are, too. God, mom is so going to kill me."
"No!" Lilly squeaked, and had me look at the rainbow again. "It is beautiful, but tell me what you see over it."
You should know that my sister was kind of strange (mom said it was rude if I called her "weird"). She was nine years old and still kept "seeing" things. A couple of years ago it was okay, even adorable - and people were saying things like "What a lovely imagination has this child!" But she was supposed to grow out of it, wasn't she? What I found particularly disturbing about her so-called visions was that she was always completely serious and consumed when talking about them, stubbornly convinced that they were real. I was guessing when you were nine it was still okay to be a little crazy, but I secretly feared being known as the girl whose sister was nuts.
"I don't see anything, Lilly. And so do you. Come on, let's go, please, mom is so going to kill me!" I said, as I was trying to drag her towards home. We were only a street or two away.
"It's Pinky!" exclaimed my sister, grinning widely. "She is smiling."
Pinky was her cat. It died last month.
"Lilly, please, let's just go," I urged her, but she wouldn't listen.
"She looks older, you know. A little skinier than I remember her, too. But she is alright."
We were late. Mom was most probably going to ground me for the rest of the week. Well, damn.
"I hope they feed them Whiskas over the rainbow," Lilly added.
I hope you shut it for a while, I thought, but I didn't say it out loud in case she ratted me out to mom. Instead, I continued my efforts to get her going.
"Don't you see her?" she insisted.
"The hell I don't," I muttered, and, feeling she was finally giving up, led her down the street.
She said nothing more, and I was glad. The day was bad enough without more of her annoying blabbering.
As I supposed, mom was angry with me. How dare I take Lilly out without bringing an umbrella - didn't I watch the weather forecast, for goodness sake? I should just look at her, oh her poor baby, her hands are ice cubes, and her clothes completely wet, and it's all my fault. I had yet again proved to be the sensless and irresponsible daughter who never cares for anyone but herself. If poor Lilly gets ill I'm grounded until Christmas and I am not celabrating my birthday. Now, it's high time I went straight to my room and out of her sight. Yeah, that was so typically my mother.
I entered the room, slammed the door, and kicked the first thing standing in my way, specifically my Biology students' book. It went across the room and it's pages twisted horribly. I didn't care. I was angry with myself for forgetting the umbrella, with my mother for shouting at me and treating me like I was to blame for the hole in the ozone layer, but most of all with my stupid sister. Mom just adored her, she was her favourite. You know, if I wasn't so afraid what my acquaintances would say, I'd actually wish Lilly would be labeled mentally disabled - it was the only way I would ever stand out for mom. My sister was always getting me in trouble. She made me take her out that day, too, and then she was trying to start a lame conversation about shooting stars, but I cut her off. Then it started to rain really heavily, and I wanted us to run, but she tripped and fell near a puddle. By the time I got her on her feet again, we were both wet. Lovely.
The rest of the day went as smoothly as it could, and that was probably because I only stayed in my room. I even skipped dinner, because I didn't feel like facing my family, when I was so mad at them. I almost finished the outline of the Phyisics presentation, which was next week, but I prefered getting school stuff over with as soon as possible. After writing my Math homework too, I took a long shower and went to bed. I was so exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately.
With a day like this, you'd think, it would be just fair to at least get a good night sleep, especially regarding the fact that you have to go to school the next morning. Of course, life is seldom fair, and the total sleep I got for the night was about three-four hours. And, guess what, it was again because of my sister. I was sure I'd dreamt of something pleasant, but when Lilly's crying woke me up, I could barely remember it. Lilly used to weep in her sleep sometimes, when she was very little, and back then I was the one who would get up in the middle of the night to wipe away her tears and assure her that, whatever it was she was dreaming of was not real. Ocassionally, I would stay with her for the rest of the night, in case she ended up crying in her sleep again. It now seemed unbelievable, that I was once well-fitting the role of the loving and caring older sister. I left it behind just about the time all my relatives started ignoring me in favour of Lilly, and I usually ended up feeling like a piece of furniture. No one ever noticed me anymore, it was all about Lilly and how cute and adorable she was, plus, an extremely bright child. Sure, a little strange, but it wasn't like that was a big deal, was it? Strange is better than dull and boring - and they all thought I was like that.
So when my sister started behaving like a weeping somnabulist for the first time in years, all I did was wish a pair earplugs would drop from, say, the ceiling. I tried holding the pillow over my head, but eventually I started struggling with breathing. So I just lay down and waited for my mother to go to my sister and calm her down, so I could get my sleep. I waited long enough to assume that my mother didn't hear anything from her room, which was on the opposite end of the apartament, while mine was just next to Lilly's. Lucky me. Finally, when I decided that the quickest way to make her stop was actually calm her myself, I got up and somehow made my way to her room without switching on any lights.
I sat on the edge of her bed and tried shaking her a little. She was still asleep and still crying, but showed some signs of consciousness, so I continued, only a little more urgent.
"Lilly, you have to wake up. Come on, it's just a dream. Like, not really happening to you. I said, wake up!"
And just like that, she did, but she didn't stop crying, and her expression was one of terror. It used to have a heart- breaking effect on me once, but no it longer worked that way.
"Oh, please. Just calm down," I told her, slightly irritated by her unfocused look. "You know it wasn't real. You're just pretending to be that scared to get my attention. Well, guess not, you're not getting it anyway, so you might as well quit trying."
"I'm cold," whispered Lilly, shivering, and one more tear rolled down her cheek.
At that point, I had to admit she didn't look okay at all and maybe, just maybe, a part of me started worrying not for the amount of sleep I would get that night, but for my sister's health. As I put my hand over her forehead, I realized she definitely had a high temperature. "Well," I thought to myself miserably, "there I go. I took her out and she got sick, and, knowing my mother, to say that I'm in trouble would be like the understatement of the year."
But I did have to go wake up my mother right now and tell her that Lilly was sick, because she would definitely know what to do about it, and, honestly, I had no clue.
"Okay, listen," I started talking to my sister a little more gently. "I'm going to fetch mom and she'll take care of you, alright? You just wait a minute."
"I am going to die, ain't I?" asked Lilly, her voice trembling. And I could see she really believed it, and at that moment, this sentence, and the desperate look on her face scared the hell out of me, and I myself felt like crying and shivering.
"Of course you're not going to die." I said quickly. "You're just a bit sick, and chances are, you won't go to school the whole week. If I were you, I'd be glad about it."
I didn't wait for her response, because I figured the quicker I told my mother about this, the better. She was going to take care of my sister, and I was going to finally get some more sleep. Or so I thought then.
Actually, telling my mother wasn't that hard. She didn't shout at me, nor did she give me an insulting lecture on my behaviour, but I was far from relieved that there would not be one at the morning.
"May I go back to sleep now?" I asked.
"Do whatever you want," was her kind answer. She couldn't care less for me, I realized. Especially when her better daughter's health was concerned. I didn't believe I had ever seen her that worried when it was me who was sick.
So I went back to my room, and tried to fall asleep again, but it was pointless. I wasn't tired anymore, and my thoughts wouldn't leave me be. Okay, so I took Lilly out, but I wouldn't have if she hadn't begged me to. It wasn't like I enjoyed spending time with her anyway. However, I thought, mom wanted us to get along well, as siblings should (according to her - but I hadn't actually heard of anyone who doesn't constantly fight with their siblings). My perfect school record wasn't even nearly enough to impress her, so I figured that acting like a loving sister for a change probably would. I wasn't sure if it would have actually worked, had it not been for the stupid rain. Then I remember how scared Lilly looked, like she really thought she was going to die, and felt a bit guilty. I decided at the moment I was only mad at my mother.
I had only started counting sheep a few minutes ago, when my mother knocked on my door and, almost hysterically, told me to get out of bed immediately. I did without hesitating, already feeling that panic was flooding me too. Was there a chance that she seemed so worried because Lilly was suffering from something more serious than a common influenza?
"What's wrong with Lilly?" I demanded.
"I don't know," my mother replied, "but I already called for an ambulance."
"You're taking her to a hospital?" I couldn't believe it. A bit of rain and cold weather weren't such a big deal for the immune system, were they? Now my conscience was reminding me of its existence. If only I hadn't forgotten the damn umbrella...
"Is it my fault? Is she going to be okay?" I asked, and my voice cracked at the last sentence. I felt like I could burst into tears any minute.
"I don't know," was all my mother said.
No one said anything for a while. The grave silence was hurting my ears.
"You can handle a couple of days on your own, right?" said my mother at last.
"You're going with her?" I asked, although I completely realized it was the lamest thing to say. Of course she was going at the hospital with Lilly. But a couple of days? "I mean, yeah, I'll be fine."
"Good."
Not good, I thought. Not good at all. I still couldn't quite believe this was really happening. I mean, except the usual conflicts with my family, my life was perfectly normal. Nothing too nice or too unpleasant ever happened, and all the days were alike. I didn't, however, define it as boring. I didn't define it anyhow. I was just going with the flow most of the time, from day to day, but I didn't mind. And the things they talked about on the news, all the great misfortunes in the world, seemed so distant. But at that very moment, they had never seemed closer, and I was scared.
I went to see Lilly again. She was sitting on her bed, with the blanket wrapped around her tight. I sat next to her.
"I don't want to go." She looked at me beseechingly, like I could prevent it somehow.
"It's only for a couple of days, " I reminded her, trying my best to sound cheerfully, but failed. "They'll heal you there, and then you'll come back home."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
She hugged me and I burst into tears.
"Why are you crying?" she asked.
"I don't know," I sobbed. "I'm sorry."
Truth is, I was perfectly aware of the reasons why I was suddenly so vulnerable. I just didn't believe I could explain them to my nine-year-old sister, especially in her present condition. Actually, I doubted I could explain them to anyone, myself included, but I tried - at least for my own comfort. The mediocrity of my life never bothered me before. Getting out of bed in the morning and going to sleep at night were usually the most significant parts of my daily routine. And I found myself wondering if I ever noticed anything at all, and if anyone ever noticed me - then, being sincere with myself, I couldn't help admitting that the answer was no. So, what if I died? Just like that, no warning, no hints, one day I'm here, the next I'm gone. No one was really going to miss me. If I were a book character, I'd be of the secondary ones, the ones who appear for a page or two at the most, performing no definite role, and by the end of the chapter you have already well forgotten about their existence, so they might as well have not been there at all. Lilly, on the other hand, was something else. She was different, and that's what made her interesting. I realized that, compared to her, I was indeed dull and boring. I didn't have the ability to make people remember me. Two weeks ago, I met my first to fourth grade teacher, and she didn't recognise me, and then couldn't even remember who I was when I told her my name. I could picture myself some years from now, returning to my high school, and everyone going like "Does anyone have any idea who that girl is?" I was no one. And the worst part is, until now, I didn't mind being no one. The only person to whom I ever tried to prove something was my mother, and I did it only because there was already someone (Lilly) proving to be a lot better than me in the art of living. Yes, my sister had a talant to value everything life could offer her, but it was never enough for her, so she invented her own worlds and universes, which she never got tired of exploring. She was only nine, while I, being in my mid-teens, was a walking background. Now I could see the contrast between us like I could distinguish black from white. That was the first time in my life when I felt completely aware of myself and my whole life until that moment, and thank god, it was far from the last.
When I was eventually alone in the apartment, it was five o'clock in the morning, and my life had just begun.
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