bitter

11/1

I got a call from my parents. That day… I remember it like it’s burning my conscience, knowing that I did it to her. Me. I brought her to that horrible place, knowing it could endanger her. She was just seven and loved me more than her own mother. And yet it was me who killed her, in the end. I didn’t realize. I swear.

10/3

I wrap my fleece around my body as the wind howled around me on the way to school. Lylli skipped along as she held my hand, cheerful despite the cold. “If you could be any animal what would you be?” she said. She had gotten the question from her small jar of questions in her first grade classroom.

“Not now,” I say to my phone. “I’m researching.” 

I’m actually texting my friend Shannon. But I don’t say that to her, because I don’t like that stupid game that she plays. 

“But sissy, pleez? Annabel said that she wanted to be a horsey, do you?” 

Never in my life have I, at that moment, wanted so badly to not be a horsey. But my bus has arrived, and I can’t express my feelings to her. “Gotta go,” I say indifferently. I climb up the steps, wanting to get away from my annoying 6 year old sister. “But Lizzy-” The doors close and I walk to the back of the bus. As it pulls out of the stop, I look back and see her heartbroken face. I feel bad, but shrug it aside when I see Shannon, sitting in the very last seat, her backpack saving the seat I’m about to sit in. She waves for me and I wave back, when I realize that she isn't waving to me. One of our enemies, Ava, walks over and promptly sits in my seat beside my best friend. My eyebrows crease as I look for a new spot and decide to sit next to my stepsister, Chloe. She’s in 8th grade and an honor student, and she absolutely smothers Lylli, but my little sister only likes me. As the faded yellow bus rumbles along the path, I pick at my seat cover and look longingly at the seat that was once my own.

                                .    .     .

The rest of the day is torture. Shannon goes home early and Chloe isn’t in the same class, so I’m alone at the lunch tables today. I do spot Lylli, but she’s so downcast about something I can’t enjoy myself. 

At the end of the day at the bus stop, I look around for Lylli, but she isn’t there. I impatiently wait 5 minutes, which turns into ten. I start panicking. Where is she? Where? 

I take out my phone and call my stepmom. “Have you seen Lylli?” 

“No, isn’t she with you?” 

I say “No,” and hang up, putting my phone in my pocket. I then remember the watch that she got as an early birthday present. It can make calls. I whip my phone out and start furiously punching buttons, forming her phone number. It rings three, four, five times until someone picks up. I hold my breath when my mom’s voice filters through. “Is this Kennedy again, because Lylli’s at school.”

My heart sinks to my knees. Her watch must be at home. A dead end. “No, this is Liz… Bye.” 

My last resort is searching for her. I start in the small stores next to where we get dropped off, finally, downcast, finding her the last shop. Miss Yusei’s Fortunes and Tarot Cards, says the swinging door sign above the doorway and window displays of cards displaying various pictures, crystal balls, geode necklaces, and other ‘magical’ items. I swing into the shop, nearly toppling over due to all the hippie beads swinging in the threshold of the door. “Um, miss? I’m looking for my six year old sister.” 

An old woman gestures to the very last table, on which a crystal ball is teetering. Lylli is sitting there, playing with a small version of the dreamcatchers near the door. “Hi Liz!” she says. I gasp and grab her hand, dragging her toward the door. “We’ve got to go! You weren’t supposed to be in here!” She grabs the dreamcatcher she was fiddling with and scoots along. The old woman (Miss Yusei?) waves to her merrily as we exit the shop and head home.

10/5

Lylli’s ready for Halloween already, and is already planning her costume and putting up her measly decorations, such as a small pumpkin (which is going to rot any day now), a fall candle (which she’s not allowed to light), and autumn leaf garlands (bought on clearance at the Dollar Tree next to our house), along with her mini dreamcatcher, which is conveniently decorated like falling leaves. I have to earn community hours at the local nursing home, which means not a lot of decorating time for me. Lylli promises to decorate my small corner dedicated to holidays. 

I start to get my coat and shoes on to get ready for the nursing home, but Lylli singsongs, “I fin-ished! Also, I need to write a letter to an old lady at the nursing home. Can I come? Pleeease???” she whines. 

“Fine!” I just about yelled. The little brat kept messing up everything. 

My dad drives us to the Hills County Elder Residences and drops us off with a, “Don’t do anything that would disturb them, kiddos!” I roll my eyes. I’m 15. I can handle ‘guys’, but not ‘kiddos’. Lylli loves it though, and my dad ruffles her curly blonde hair. She squeals in delight.

“Come on,” I say, tugging her away from my dad and toward the front desk. “I’m late for my community service.” 

When we finally tear away from Dad,I tell the lady at the desk who I am, and we are told to put masks on and go directly to floor A7, so we head towards the elevator. I tell Lylli to push the correct button, and we creakily move up. 

The doors open and we step into a cold, fluorescently lit hallway. I walk down it and realize I don’t know what to do, so I peer into one of the room’s darkly tinted windows and finally see the label on the door. SCARLET FEVER. TAKE CARE-VERY CONTAGIOUS. Lylli is only just learning to read, so she says, “What does that say?” She looks at the letters again, and a lightbulb goes off in her head. “Sundaes!” she squeals and rushes in, taking off her mask and saying, “I like ice cream! Who has the ice cream?” 

I see the person before her. She bumps into the foot of the bed and a cough from the frail man laying down on the dirty cot finds its way into her nostrils. “No!” I scream and push her out the door. I close it and shove her into the elevator, pushing the button for the first floor. “Hold your breath,” I order her and hope this thing goes fast enough. She does, and when we reach the first floor, I can see that. I race to the box of tissues nearest to me and say, “Blow, blow, blow…” 

She happily lets out her breath into the soft square of paper. I’m afraid it’s not enough. It of course is enough, right? 

After we’re driven home, I forget about what happened. I finished my community service for school, I’m done with homework, and Lylli isn’t showing any bad signs. After I finish dinner, I stare at my phone, without a care in the world. 

     10/6

I yawn as I rise up out of my bed, stretching. Monday morning-the early week’s torture. As I think about school, I remember Shan and my throat tightens. I decide, lightning-fast, that I’ll text her.

queen_elizabeth: shannon?

queen_elizabeth: what’s up with you and ava? I thought you hated her.

queen_elizabeth: please shan? 

shannon_15: idk. What are you talking about? 

queen_elizabeth: you waved to ava at the bus. She sat down. 

shannon_15: I wasn’t waving for her to come and join me!!! you're my best friend!

shannon_15: Calm down. SRSLY u overreact sm. 🙁

shannon_15: Really. You’re such a baby. Maybe Ana will sit w/me again 2day. 

queen_elizabeth: sorry, please shan ur my bff. 

shannon_15: I hope not. I dont want to have to go thru THAT torture AGAIN today >:

shannon_15: u really think you're going to get another chance? Ana’s better to sit w/ anyway. Hope you get to sit with that nerd again 2day. 

queen_elizabeth oh.

queen_elizabeth: sorry

queen_elizabeth: shan?

queen_elizabeth: shannon?

queen_elizabeth: calling u

I dial her number and wait. The rings coming from the phone shut off suddenly, as if Shannon purposely ignored me. 

I get ready slowly, discouraged. When I’m ready, I realize I haven’t seen Lylli today. “Dad?” I say. “Lylli?” 

“She’s up here, she doesn’t feel too well” comes from the stairs.

I shrug this off. Everyone gets colds here. “Well, I’m leaving.” 

It was cold outside, with everyone getting ready for Halloween. I passed many skeletons and jack o’ lanterns.on my way to the bus stop. 

The bitter air feels ominous as I open the window in the bus. Shannon is absent today. I sit alone. 

Halfway throughout my six period science class, I’m called to the office. 

I rush down the halls, wondering why I have to be herded up here. That’ll be answered when it’s answered, anyway. 

I reach the door and am let inside the cold room. The principal sits in his chair and has a grim expression plastered on his face. I sit down in one of the hard plastic folding chairs, and he starts talking. 

“There’s a call waiting for you, Miss Elizabeth. We received a message from your parents about your little sister, Lyllian. She is extremely sick and must stay at the hospital in critical condition. Your father is on the phone."

“What?!” I exclaim. He hands me the phone and I take it immediately. “Dad-”

“I know, I know.” He sounds like Principal Meyers- all business. Hard and bitter- just like everything else today.. “But you have to come home. We can’t let you in the hospital yet, but you can come with us and wait outside the doors.”

“I should be allowed to see my baby sister, even if she’s contagious! I don’t care if I get sick, not that you do-” My voice catches. I slam down the phone and stalk out of the office. “Wait, Elizabeth-” I hear before the door swings shut. My walk turns to a run as I barrel straight to the main doors, to my bike.As I run, I message Shannon. 

queen_elizabeth: lylli is sick. 

queen_elizabeth: please come

queen_elizabeth: I think she's dying 

shannon_15: ...

shannon_15: I am coming

                             .         .        . 

My feet pound on the bare asphalt of the hospital parking lot, running as fast as I’ve ever run. The doors open automatically, which is good, since I almost crashed into them in my haste to get to my little sister. “Please- my sister-” I choke out to an official-looking man behind the welcome desk. “I need to find my little sister- her name is Lylli.”

“She lost?” he says, clicking things into his computer. 

“No,” I say. “She’s a patient.”

“Spelling?” 

I groan. This is taking far too long. “Please, just-” 

“Oh.” He clicks a button on his laptop, peers at the tiny text, frowns, straightens up. Then, finally, he talks. “Lyllian Patel?”

I sigh with relief. “Yes. Please, what’s her room number?” 

He tells me floor E, room 23. I nod and rush to the elevator. 

   I found her. 

She is lying in the bed, tubes up her arm, an oxygen mask on her little mouth. I kneel down and stroke her hair. I look up at the doctor, an elderly man with gray hair, and glasses, and an expression like stone. “How is she?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

“I’m her sister!” I yell at the doctor. “Tell me!”  

Just then, my stepdad, dad, mom, and stepsister enter the room. “Elizabeth?” my mom says.

I try to say something, but I burst into tears the moment I do. “Honey…” says Dad. The doctor interrupts, saying,

 “We have an urgent matter to discuss. Without the girl.”

My stepsister quietly brushes her hair behind her ears and walks to the door, but the doctor points a bony finger at me and says, "That one." 

I almost scream at him again, but my mom ushers me out the door before I get the chance. “Sorry, Liz…” 

They shut the door.

I sit on one of the chairs outside the door, trembling, tears pouring down my bright red cheeks.. I have nothing better to do than wait. I hear muffled voices. If only I could hear…

I race over to the door. Eavesdropping, I think. I put my ear against the door and I catch a voice. “So, will she be okay?”

Mom. “I have grave news. Your daughter… she is in trouble.” The doctor. “She- well- you have a week from now.” 

This chills me down to the bone. Then I hear the next words. “Until she dies.” 

                   .     .      .     .    .    .   . 

gone   help      

where are you   please

coats of white blinding          

the lights...  no.  black again.   lures me into.    sleep 

again and  again.    minutes turn into hours. days now. how many? how many? 

No how many days until      until    

help me please     not.   the.     drugs. 

black again 

         why?

don't 

I wake up in my bedroom, a heavy blanket in my lap and my dog, PT, lying in my lap. I push the blanket off of me. How long have I been out? Why have I been out?

A flash of images comes to me. Lylli’s heartbroken face as my bus pulls away. Lylli blowing into the handkerchief at the nursing home. Lylli, attached to countless tubes. Lylli. Lylli. Lylli. ‘Until she dies.’

I race to her room. “LYLLI!” I scream. There is no sign of her. Her bed is made, and her desk is tidy. Dread fills me like a black liquid, slithering through my veins, spreading like a virus. I run to Dad's room.

There she is, nestled in her baby blanket. No sign of Dad. I scoop her up like I would a baby and start crying. “No…” Her arms close around my neck and she says, “Bye, Lizzy.”

“How many more?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“3.”

“Days?” 

"Hours." She giggles. "I can't die now, can I? It's not a very good joke."

Tears spill over my cheeks as I sit on the floor and rock her. “I’ll be with you,” I say. “I promise. It was my fault. I'm so sorry.”

She focuses her honey colored eyes on me and says, "Am I... dying?"

I cannot bring myself to nod.

I can feel the life draining out of her small, fragile body. She was only 7. What an age, I think as I chuckle. Young. I think I’m going insane waiting for her to die. Die! I wanted her to outlive me underneath all that anger at her perfectness. She loves me. I sit with her, until she finally says, “I- what's happening? Help, Liz, please-help-” Her eyelids flutter shut and her arms go limp. “No!” I sob as I feel her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. I will not accept it. I will rock her until I die, too. I am a deathbed. I deserve to die. Not again, the drugs, the black. After a while, everything slowly fades away again, from drugs, exhaustion, or grief, I’m not sure. 

goodbye .  ly

ll

I good 

bye

again. 

                 .     .      .      .        .    .     .

Epilogue

I did not die. Lylli did. She was a sister, friend, worshipper, yet I was nothing like that to her. I regret it. 

I was running from the truth for so many years, the truth that she is gone, never returning, and now I understand what it feels like to lose someone. The race was won still, by fate.

I caught the fever, just moments after, but it was far too weak to grab a hold of me and drag me under too, like Lylli.

I am 30 and unmarried. I keep her little dreamcatcher next to my bed. I have for the last 10 years. It has not moved; I have not moved. It is covered in dust. 

  I am covered in dust. 

Shannon is gone. An unfortunate accident.

‘You only know how much something means to you when it is lost.’ I get that now. Lylli taught me so many things. 

I…