It Wasn't Her Fault.

It always pissed her off that, no matter what, Francine’s younger sister Joan was always right. Their parents always fawned over Joan, and valued her input over Francine’s every time both had a say. Growing up, their friends would always take Joan’s advice, and would take Francine’s with many grains of salt. Everyone Francine grew up with would always shoot her ideas… her beliefs… down, but Joan? Well she always seemed to be right.

In high school, Francine finally managed to find some people who accepted her for who she was, and validated her points of view. Together they could mock so called evidence that was contrary to what they knew, and with their bonds of friendship they could weather any storm that tried to make them change. Why should they change when they knew they were right?

Francine’s parents didn’t care for these friends. They said that they were trouble and would be a bad influence on her. When she talked with her friends about it, they all supported her. Francine’s parents’ didn’t understand her; they didn’t understand the way things worked in the world. They just wanted Francine to be like them, cogs in the machine.

Sheep blindly following.

That shit wasn’t for Francine. She wasn’t a damn sheep, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to become one like her parents or her sister.

It didn’t help when Joan went to college. Francine never did go. College seemed like such a pain in the ass, and what good did it do anyways? It seemed that all college really did was turn folks into brainwashed herd animals. But Jane went, and their parents were soooo pleased. High school had been enough education for Francine, who promptly went into the job market. Though she had many various jobs, she finally landed on being a receptionist for an auto repair shop. She didn’t need any fancy degree to feel validated or to be useful, especially some degree that would strip her of her individuality… her humanity… in the process.

The years passed. Francine got married and had a kid. Her parent’s didn’t really like the guy, and it turns out he was an asshole who cheated on her. So she divorced, got married again to a guy who, again, her parents didn’t like. Her second husband had a lot in common with her first one, but at least he didn’t cheat on her… at least as far as she ever knew.

In the meanwhile, Joan had completed her Bachelor of Science in Communications with a focus on technical writing, and continued onto get her Master’s in Journalism. Though they didn’t have much money, their parents threw a block party when Joan completed her Masters. All of their friends and family were invited, and most showed up. Francine, however, didn’t see the point. All this celebration because her sheep sister graduated from a brainwashing institution with an advanced degree is being a mindless tool.

Francine’s parents were pretty upset about her ditching her younger sister’s graduation party, and let her know about it under no uncertain terms. Francine’s response was to threaten to never let them see their grandchildren again. Francine’s parents did not expect her to go that far, and Francine didn’t expect them to take her up on that threat.

Although Francine’s relationship up until this point had been on thin ice, they still had served as a source of daycare for Francine’s children. Now, all of the sudden, Francine and her husband were without childcare. To say Francine and her husband were upset at Francine’s parents would be an understatement. Francine’s husband was pissed because now they had to find and pay for childcare because his asshole hippy in laws were stupid liberal hippies, and Francine was pissed because her parents had put her in a difficult situation when she should have had them in a corner. Francine attempted to back off her threat, but she couldn’t unring the bell, and Francine’s parents refused to babysit her children after that.

It wasn’t long after Francine cut her parents out of her life that her sister got employed at the local news station. Francine wasn’t surprised, but she was embarrassed to be related to anyone who worked for that local liberal rag. She was even more embarrassed when her friends called her up to laugh. Apparently her sister had wished her a happy birthday earlier that week, and Francine’s friends just had to tear into her about having her name even mentioned on that station.

To say Francine’s relations with her family didn’t improve after that would be an understatement. Joan would keep trying to reach out to her on social media, and Francine kept blowing her off. Francine ignored everything that came from her little sister, big or small. She ignored Joan’s promotions, she ignored Joan’s requests to know what Francine’s kids wanted for their birthdays, she ignored when Joan got a dog, she even ignored the wedding invitation Joan sent her.

Over two years, Francine had hoped that her sister would take the damn hint and stop trying to be a part of her life, then Francine got a notification that Joan was going to have a child.

Francine still didn’t want anything to do with her sister, or the rest of her family, but this child would be a blank slate, and she couldn’t just let her sister and her parents be the primary influences on it. Francine saw an opportunity, an opportunity to do some good and prevent a new generation from being little liberal sycophantic parasites. So Francine did something she hadn’t done in almost three years, she opened up to her sister Joan.

Joan was ecstatic to connect back with her sister, and Francine almost felt sorry for her stupid sister for not seeing what Francine was attempting to do.

Francine learned that Joan was only a few weeks along, but she was willing to play the long game. She would meet her sister for lunch, Joan would try to catch up, and Francine would purposefully give vague answers for as long as she could. The trick was to get herself into Joan’s life, but she really didn’t want her sister getting involved in hers.

Then a snag developed in her plan, the damn Arab flu. Francine was sure it had some technical name, but it didn’t matter. She knew the flu came from one of those countries where the population screws camels, but for her purposes it didn’t matter where the flu came from. What mattered was that the country broke down into a panic over the damn thing. The liberal sissies started calling for lockdowns, social distancing, and for people to be wearing masks. It was all pretty much the same bullcrap that they had been pushing barely a decade before when they overhyped the dangers of the COVID pandemic.

Francine wasn’t buying it, but Joan had swallowed the scare tactics of the politicians and scientists, hook, line, and sinker. Suddenly Francine had to wear a mask whenever she came over, and she had to swear that she was practicing safe social distancing. Francine blew up at her sister. The virus was a bunch of liberal propaganda bullshit and she was not going to submit to some Commie agenda to control her. Not from the government, not from the media, and certainly not from her brainwashed little sister.

Francine’s whole plan was almost a bust. She wasn’t going to social distance, she wasn’t going to wear a damn mask, and she wasn’t going to follow any stupid lockdowns. Francine finally worked out how she would get around her sister’s driveling bullshit. As much as a pain in the ass as it was, Francine worked out a schedule. She had learned her sister’s routine, and Francine had managed to plan out what places in town she would need to avoid and when she would need to avoid those places. When all was said and done, Francine was actually pretty impressed with herself, and Joan, she was none the wiser.

Eventually Francine managed to convince her sister that she was taking all of the proper safety precautions all the time, and so Joan allowed Francine some little luxuries like not needing to wear a mask around Joan. Francine played it cool. She checked with Joan that she was okay with it… but she eventually accepted the offer and, much to her satisfaction, stopped wearing her mask around Joan.

Stories about the Arab flu kept building. Stories about how it could affect people of all ages, stories about how people who caught it could expect symptoms ranging from being like a minor cold to a severe case of pneumonia, stories about it having a twenty percent mortality rate, even stories about the body count, and the media just never let up on all the fear mongering.

Outside of when she was around her sister, Francine never changed her behavior. She refused to the propaganda and let it have any control over her life. She did catch a minor cold, but she tended to catch a minor cold during that time of year, just like everyone else. Francine knew she didn’t have any Arab flu, but she also knew that Joan would absolutely freak out if Francine showed up sick. So Francine loaded up on a combination of cold medications she had used years ago to avoid having to call in sick when she worked as a waitress. It worked just as well with this cold as it had all those years ago, and Joan continued to not suspect a thing.

Then Joan got sick.

Francine thought that Joan was faking at first. Joan must have figured out how Francine was blowing off safety procedures like social distancing and wearing a mask.

Then Joan was in the hospital.

Francine went to the hospital under the pretense of a visit, but really she just wanted to see just how far Joan would go to try to teach her a lesson. The hospital wouldn’t let her in unless she was wearing a mask. The requirement didn’t surprise Francine, and she came prepared. She put on a mask that she kept in her purse in case she came across Joan outside of their normal meets. And shortly after she was in the hospital, the mask was off her face. She did put the mask back on when she went to the receptionist to find out what room her sister was in, but it was off again shortly after learning where she needed to go.

Sick people crowded the halls and rooms, people faking the flu to get free healthcare because of their bad health decisions. Some of those people, and most of the hospital staff, gave Francine dirty looks as she walked down the hall. She finally found the room her sister was in, and walked right through the door.

Their parents were there when Francine came to visit, and Francine wore the scowl on her face very plainly. Both of them wore masks, but the scowls on their faces were just as plain as Francine’s. Joan’s back was turned away from Francine. Their parents didn’t even bother to address the fact that Francine wasn’t wearing a mask. Francine’s mother leaned over Joan saying something to her that Francine couldn’t hear. Joan seemed to nod her head, and then their parents left the room. Francine eyeballed her parents, and her dad met her gaze, as they walked past her and out the door.

The room was quiet for several moments, the silence occasionally broken by the sound of Joan coughing. After a few minutes Joan rolled over onto her back, her face was ashen and plastered in sweat. Joan looked Francine up and down with tired eyes. “Mom said you didn’t wear a mask…”

Francine didn’t respond. Something else was off about Joan.

“I suppose you haven’t really been wearing your mask,” Joan coughed wetly, “or been doing anything else you were supposed to.”

Francine still didn’t respond. What was it she was missing, that was nagging at the back of her brain?

“You got sick, didn’t you Francine?” Joan let loose a heavy cough and a retch that produced more than a fair bit of mucus. Afterward she kept her eyes locked on Francine, reading her face. “The flu made me miscarry,” Joan finally told Francine.

For the first time since their parents left the room, Francine had an expression on her face. It wasn’t concern, and it wasn’t any sort of empathy. It was surprise. Surprise that she had not realized Joan no longer had her baby bump, and surprise that Joan had managed notice that Francine was trying to figure out what Francine had been missing.

Joan continued to stare at Francine for several moments, reading her expression, and studying her body language. The entire time Francine’s mind was spinning, trying to think of what to say.

“Will you be okay?” Francine knew before the words left her mouth that it wasn’t the right thing to say, but it was the only thing she could think of. This wasn’t her fault, none of it was.

Joan gave her one last once over, as if giving Francine time to amend what she had said. Time to explain what she had done.

“Leave me alone.” Joan finally rasped. She coughed and wheezed as she rolled back onto her side, facing away from her sister. “You’ve done enough.”

Francine slowly backed away, then opened the door and left the room. Their parents were waiting outside. Francine’s father kept scowling at her from behind the mask, and her mother wouldn’t even look at her. No words were exchanged. They had waited for her to come out, and once she did, they left without saying a single word to her.

Francine began to feel a pit develop deep in her stomach, and it filled her with anger. How dare they make her feel guilty? This wasn’t her fault. This was just some random occurrence. The Arab flu wasn’t a real pandemic. It was just something that everyone had grabbed onto so they could better control everyone else. Politicians, the media, even her family, they were all trying to use this faux pandemic to control others, to control her. It wasn’t her fault that her sister had been one of the unimaginably few people who might have actually gotten sick from this for real. Had the stories not blown this out of proportion, her sister the pregnancy would still be fine.

Francine’s phone buzzed as she received a text. It was from her husband. He was heading to the hospital with all three of her children. All of three had a high fever, and the youngest one wouldn’t stop coughing.

Francine threw the phone down on the ground as hard as she could, causing the screen to audibly crack on the linoleum tile floor. Francine was seething at everything. The government for trying to control her, the media for spreading the lies, her parents for trying to change her, and her sister for thinking she was the cause of her current state. Francine stormed off towards the hospital entrance, meeting the glare of everyone who gave her a dirty look for not wearing her mask in the hospital.

She didn’t care.

It didn’t matter what happened.

It wasn’t Francine’s fucking fault.