We need eachotter

• Are you there, God? It's me, you know, just hanging out at the foot of my bed, drinking a glass of wine, and it's my first one all week, so don't get all judgy on me.
• It's been a long week, and it's Friday night, well almost, but I have a "nothing to do" Saturday morning tomorrow, so don't worry about it. 

Great, Amelia thought, I'm in my pj's, talking to myself out loud, like a crazy person, and sober. 

• You already know all of this, right?
• I mean, you must know, given you're all omnipresent and stuff, I mean if you ARE everywhere all the time, you must know everything about everyone too. You're probably used to seeing and hearing some extremely bizarre situations and some deeply personal things too.

She stood up and started circling her bed while biting her bottom lip, as she did when she felt stressed or nervous. She remembered what her mom said when she did it in front of her: you look like a child when you do that, and you wonder why you're still single at 25.

She stopped walking, unbit her lip, and started pacing the hallway with the glass of wine in her hands. 

• Honestly, I'm not sure I feel comfortable with that, like hello, where's my privacy? Is it necessary for you to know if I'm in the bathroom or eating leftover pizza for the third day in a row? We have an Amendment Act and everything on privacy, so why do you get to go around it? 
• Doesn't seem like fair game if you ask me, but of course, you didn't ask because I'm all alone talking to myself, and I'm rambling. 

At this point, Amelia hurried downstairs and poured herself another glass of wine after walking around all the upstairs floor. As she looked over from the counter through the glass doors into the garden, the sun was setting, and the golden light looked divine. She stood there for a while, just enjoying it.

•  Okay, so here's the thing, I don't know you, well no one does really, but what I mean is I don't actually know about you or how to get to you. I've heard this whole Christ, Virgin Mary, Joseph story and all about communion, confession, the ten commandments, commandments, right? 

• Anyways, what I'm saying is, I have a rough idea of your life story and mantras if you will (she laughed to herself a bit, the wine was kicking in). However, I have no idea how you're supposed to work or how to go about communicating with you. So, I talked to my friend Amanda the other day, telling her all about this because it would be nice to have faith in something or someone to answer for everything that's messed up, you know? 
• Amanda always seems so calm and unbothered when she talks about her faith, I suppose you already know all of this too. You know what, I'm still going to tell you things as if you didn't know about them. Otherwise, it's just too weird, and it's enough that I'm talking by myself as if someone was here. Let's make this a little more chill and sit down, shall we?

Amelia walked past the living room, and the cold air hit her face when she opened the glass doors into the back porch. She went back to grab a blanket, her newly poured glass of wine, and the bottle, just in case. She sat at the swing chair and curled up to be cozy, feeling the last rays of sunshine set on her face. Amelia closed her eyes and told herself once again, try it, okay? You have nothing to lose. 

• So, where were we? Right! I talked to Amanda, and you know she has been going to church all her life and works with the kids at the community center. You know, the one on Maple Street? 
• Yeah, so she goes there every Sunday, tells them all about YOU, and tries to turn them into decent human beings. You better be proud of her because those kids are a handful, but she still shows up every Sunday with a smile, even though they give her hell sometimes. Oh crap! Is that an offense for you? I've just always used that expression, never thought twice about it until now, sorry about that.  
• Okay, so Amanda said that since you are everywhere, and if I didn't feel comfortable coming into the church, I could pray to you from wherever I wanted. Have a conversation, that's what she said, and well, here we are.  

Amelia took a sip of wine and pulled the blanket up. The sun had set, the wind was blowing into her face, her hands were freezing, and still, she didn't want to go inside. It felt comfortable to talk out here, and it was somehow easy to imagine someone sitting at the rocking chair across from her. 

As Amelia looked over to the end of the garden, her eyes landed on the shed. She knew darn well that all of Sally's packed boxes were waiting for her to get rid of them. That was for another day.

• You know, for someone that's supposed to be everywhere all the time, you're terribly hard to find. I mean, it makes sense because there are so many versions of you. Do you have a favorite one? Or are all of them wrong? I've always wondered about that. My parents have never been much into religion, so I wasn't brought up with any of it, just what I've learned through some friends. 
• There are a lot of versions about how you look like, what you allow, and what you don't. I've probably messed up in all of them at some point, but you know it's different when you're not aware of it. Well, it should be because how can you not do something if no one tells you about it. Some things are just common sense, right? You shall not kill, you shall not steal? All of those are just pretty straightforward. 
• But what's up with all the other ones? I read a passage, passage? I read a story from the bible once, and it didn't make any sense! There are so many characters you have a whole ensemble telling your story. 

Her glass was empty. It probably wasn't wise, but Amelia went back inside and came back with a new bottle of wine, and some salt and vinegar chips.

• Now, the whole Inquisition thing, I mean come on. I don't know half of it, okay? But I have to say it's not the best promotion for religion, marketing-wise. Also, it doesn't add up, you created this whole world, and then you're sending people to kill others because they don't believe it? That's literally against your commandments.
• Also, what about the Buddhist monks, Jews, Hindus, and other religions happening all around the world? 
• So again, which is it? You see, it's all very confusing from the outside. For someone with no specific religious education, it doesn't make sense. Which one do you choose? Do you have to choose only one or could I have a mix? 
• Also, when you choose, do you have to tell someone to make it official? Can they reject you, or is there an application process? Can I decide one day, "I'm a Buddhist!" or whatever, and that's it?

Amelia stood up, suddenly had this urgency, and walked over to the shed, opened it, picked up the first box to take it over to the porch before she could doubt it. She sat on the floor, took a deep breath, and opened the box. Bugs started crawling all over, she tried to shoo them away, but the dust made them hard to see. 

This was so disgusting! She emptied the box beside her and threw it out into the garden. Ew! She never understood how Sally tolerated those things. Amelia stared at the pile and proceeded to pick up a t-shirt.

• This was her favorite, wore it all the time, despite me telling her almost every day that "We need eachotter" was not as funny as she thought. "Are you kidding! It's hilarious! Besides you are the otter that I need". That was always her answer before walking away pretending to be a swimming otter.
• Oh, I haven't seen this in forever. She was so happy that day, after her valedictorian speech she tossed one of these over to the whole class, right there from the stage. She thought it was so clever how a hair tie could turn into a bow tie, and you could see the yellow butterflies of the fabric either way. A type of yellow butterfly that was, or is, endangered, so she purchased this from an organization that donates for their conservation. Butterflies got Sally interested in veterinary and animals in general, she just loved watching them, all their colors. 
• What's up with animal endangered species, huh? I mean, I know humans are at fault, but you must be able to do something about it, being all mighty and powerful, no? Now that we're on the subject, what's up with all the bad things in the world?
• If you are all so omnipotent, how come bad things happen? How come there are earthquakes and shootings at schools? Why are children getting run over by maniacs? It doesn't make sense. Why bring so much darkness into a world if you had all the creative liberty?

Amelia looked back at the pile of clothes and started running her hand through them. She didn't see t-shirts, hoodies, and dresses. There was the time they went to Disneyland, the picnic at the lake, her graduation party, Mom's birthday at that fancy restaurant where Dad got food poisoning, cousin's Isabella baby shower, Sally's last birthday. 

These were the souvenirs of Sally's memories. Amelia took another sip of wine and looked over to the rocking chair, her mood had changed, and the whole thing wasn't amusing anymore. She wanted answers. 

• Where were you when it all happened? When Sally got sick and had to be in and out of hospitals every other day. Each time she came out with a little less life in her and less will to keep fighting. She never said it out loud, but I could see her through her eyes, how she was getting so tired of it. The needles, the endless vomiting, the restless nights, Mom and Dad fighting about what to do next. 
• She was a fighter, a strong-minded human being because YOU made her one! And then YOU destroyed her!

She was getting that rage again. Amelia stood up, holding the blanket up to her chest, and began pacing with the bottle of wine in her hand. She kept looking over at the rocking chair at each turn she took at the edge of the porch. 

• So what was the point? Build her up, allow her to graduate top of her class, be valedictorian, win her soccer tournament with 2 minutes on the clock, get a scholarship for college, get her admitted into the animal conservation program like she always wanted! And then for what?
• For you to decide right at the beginning of her whole life that she was better off sick? That she deserved to die after only six but excruciating months of surgery and recovery and chemotherapy
• For you to allow my Dad to never recover from her loss and drive him and Mom further apart? 

Her voice was getting louder, the wine was getting low, and she could no longer push down the rage that had started inside her six months ago. Amelia stopped standing between the coffee table and the swing, chugged in more wine and wiped off a few drops with the back of her hand, and looked straight at the rocking chair.  

• AND WHAT ABOUT ALL THE PLANS WE MADE? WHAT ABOUT ME? DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT? YOU LEFT ME ALL ALONE IN THIS HOUSE! A HOUSE YOU WATCHED US REMODEL, PAINT, FURNISH, DECORATE, SO WE WOULD ALWAYS HAVE A HOME OF OUR OWN. YOU LEFT ME WITH ALL THE HOTEL BOOKINGS AND PLANE TICKETS FOR WHEN I WAS GOING TO MEET UP WITH HER IN COSTA RICA. ALL THE PLANS WE MADE, THE HOSTELS WE BOOKED, ALL THE CLOTHES SHE WAS DONATING, THE BOOKS I STORED FOR WHEN SHE CAME BACK FOR CHRISTMAS.

• AND YOU TOOK HER, RIGHT BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY! FOR WHAT? SO IT COULD HURT MORE? ARE YOU SUCH EVIL? SHE WAS A GOOD KID, THE BEST SISTER, THE BEST FRIEND, KIND, SMART, HUMBLE. YOU DECIDED TO TAKE HER AWAY AND LEAVE US WITH ALL THE MURDERERS, ALL THE CORRUPTED PEOPLE, HIPSTERS, AND PLASTIC SURGEONS! THE WORLD IS INSANE! THERE'S WAR ALL OVER, ICE IS MELTING, KIDS ARE DYING, NOW WE ALSO HAVE THE METAVERSE IDIOTS, AND YOU TAKE AWAY ONE OF THE FEW PERSONS THAT ARE ACTUALLY TRYING TO DO SOMETHING GOOD DOWN HERE? SHE WAS TRYING TO SAVE ANIMALS AND TREES, LITTLE TINY INSECTS OR WHATEVER!
• AND NOW I'M SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON AND ACCEPT THIS IS ALL PART OF A HIGHER PLAN? WHY DO YOU GET TO DECIDE? WHAT HIGHER PLAN? WHERE IS IT? 
• WHERE'S THE REASON? WHERE'S THE EXPLANATION FOR THIS HIGHER PLAN? FUCK YOUR HIGHER PLAN!

At this moment, Amelia threw the almost-empty bottle of wine into the rocking chair and then collapsed onto the floor while shielding her eyes from the broken glass. She was gasping for air in between screams and tears. Slowly, like a baby starting to walk, she picked herself up, sobbing, and made her way into the swing, laid on her back, and stared at the wooden ceiling. One, two, three, four, there it was; at the fourth beam, if you looked closely, two carved initials "A & S". She remembered that day as if it was yesterday, Sally up on the ladder taking down a bird's nest with three little eggs that were left behind, unhatched. After she took it down, she grabbed a knife and went back up, looking triumphant after carving their initials Sally had turned to her and said "No way anyone's ever painting over them! We'll be in this house forever". Amelia began sobbing again, had she stopped?

• I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much. I've been trying to get over it, think it's all part of something bigger than me, something I can't understand. But that's just it, I can't understand it, and it's driving me crazy. I'm exhausted. 
• All I ask for is some peace, some sign that she's alright wherever she is, anything that makes it easier to move past it. I need to continue my life without my sister here, and I have no idea how to do that. Do you?

She looked over to the rocking chair again and pulled up the blanket. 

• I know you may have it all figured out, but I don't, and I could really use your help. Could you do that for me, God? 
• I'm begging you, give me a sign that helps me move on from grief. I need it, to stop drowning in all this sorrow. 
• I need to feel like I'll be able to breathe easy and smile again. 

---

Oh, what is this? She felt it in her cheek, a tingling, now she could feel it running down her arm, now her hand, it stopped, it turned from tingling into a soft stroke. Amelia opened her eyes cautiously, oh the sunlight, she closed them back again and drove her head into the cushions of the swing. She could still feel it, in her hand, a little brush, she didn't want to move it, so she carefully turned her head and opened one eye. 

She saw the bottle of wine broken on the floor and a few red drops here and there. The wooden table had piles and piles of clothes, Sally's clothes. Amelia leaned her head forward to the edge of the swing to get a glimpse of her hanging arm, and on the top of her hand, she saw a yellow blur. Was it a potato chip? Of course, it wasn't, but she wasn't fully awake either. She opened both eyes and leaned further into her hand, which hadn't moved. 

Oh, a butterfly, a tiny yellow butterfly posing on her hand, wings wide open. She was resting on her hand, moving her wings softly. Amelia stared at her, how she knew it was a "her" she had no idea, and then tears started running down her cheeks. She sat up in what felt like slow motion, not to disturb her, and then rested her hand on her right leg on top of the blanket. She kept crying for what felt like a Marvel movie without looking away from the butterfly, and then she started to raise her hand steady to her eye level. 

Somehow, looking at her closely, with her pale yellow wings brushing softly against her skin, it all felt like the perfect moment, with peace, no anger, no despair, just a breath in time. Amelia took a deep breath; the tears had stopped, and as she brought the butterfly closer to her face, Amelia whispered: thank you. At that moment, the butterfly hovered at her hand for a bit before taking off into the clear sky. 

Amelia sat there for a moment in awe and realized she felt so much lighter, such peace inside her. She looked over at the rocking chair and started laughing.