"Are the two really related? Have her parents had the eldest girl checked yet? It could be something genetic."
"Yeah, her father had her tested to find out if she showed any signs of a disease. The best anyone can figure is an extreme form of narcolepsy."
"And they both fell into the comas at the exact same time? They must have been twins or something."
"No, the papers said that all three have different moms, and one of the girls is a few months older than the other."
"Hopefully they'll figure this out..."
It felt weird to be at school right now, to be walking behind those two teachers having that conversation. They were just making polite conversation about what was the headline of the New York Times, and had no clue the eldest girl was slowly moving behind them. It would be sort of funny if her sisters - her baby sisters - weren't in separate hospitals, miles away, both in comas. Another soft boil of frustration and terror bubbled in the nine year-old's throat.
But she had a secret. She knew why they were like this, and no one would believe her if she tried to say.
When they had finished talking to Amelia's doctor yesterday she had tried to explain, tried to tell them what was going on, but it had been a useless effort. Their father had just brushed it off quietly. It wasn't his fault, he was stressing out and just as terrified. Sarah's own mother had bailed when the girl was young, and her father had 'donated' to Amelia and Jaimee's mothers. (What exactly that meant none of the girls understood, but at nine and six they were all young.) Even though both her sisters lived far away, all three parents had stayed in contact, become friends, and made sure the girls knew each other. She loved them to death and all three were super close. Sometimes people forgot Amelia and Jaimee weren't twins because they were close enough in age and had enough similarities to have convinced themselves of it. (You make a mistake once and the little ones never forget.)
Sarah knew why they were in comas, but with no one who would believe her, and no idea how to help yet, she knew they might be stuck like that for a while.
----
She found Jaimee's dream journal a few weeks after she turned twelve. Her sisters had been moved to a nearby hospital and their cases had practically been abandoned by now. They would be nine now.
It was a reasonable, and correct, assumption that Amelia would have one too, and it was hidden in a fake panel of her desk. Their dad had built it for her and there were a few other prized possessions. In messy six year-old and younger writing the two had carefully catelouged their dreams. It wasn't easy to read. It made her cry for a long while, her stomach turned and knotted, but she knew where to start.
-----
Jaimee and Amelia were born two months and nine days apart, Amelia being the elder. They shared secrets, shows, candy, toys, and sometimes haircuts. In between Amelia's fourth birthdays and Jaimee's upcoming fourth, they also found they shared narcolepsy--but not 'dream cities.'
Amelia would fall asleep at night or whenever and would visit a city of a gold after being led there by a woman who could only be described as the white chess piece queen. Jaimee's were pretty similar; the cities were almost identical in feature but not in colors, since Jaimee went to a city of purple. They seemed to agree that neither city was a better place or a beautiful place than the other. They swapped stories over the phone and in gently written letters. They also shared their grand tales with their elder sister, who was the only person who noted how odd it was that their dreams were so similar. Sarah didn't trust the chess piece queens, the ones who called to her sisters to 'come home' and called them princesses. She was very right not to, it was now decided, at fourteen.
Amelia's orange-blonde hair spread out gently underneath her, a quilt of golds and reds and pinks and a few splashes of green laying uncrinkled over it. Her maternal grandmother handmade it. Sarah kind of remembered her eyes being gray. They were pretty, like her smile, and she missed them. Someone at the hospital had given her a hair cut recently - the sun-like locks only reached to about her shoulders.
Gone were the days of similar haircuts, it was also decided, as she glanced over Jaimee's terrifyingly long brown curls. Or, more waves. Her hair had curled more in her youth, but she noticed a few ringlets popping back to place. Miss. Marian would be happy to hear that. They both had nice smiles and star-filled eyes. She was pretty sure they both had dimples too, but those weren't allowed to be mentioned. Ever.
Two worn and fading dream journals were opened in her lap, the dates and times recorded circled by a trademark red marker. So far, each one matched perfectly, like the two had interconnected dreams. As she flipped a page, the pretty day nurse set a peach fanta on the table. She was a sweetie, Sarah liked her bunches, she even let the fourteen year old call her Madeline.
Jaimee seemed to walk through the 'palace gardens' a lot in her dreams and mentioned the stars almost as much as Amelia did. She'd counted the number for one dream once. It was about fifteen times. They all really liked space, and had made a point to sit outside and watch the sky at least once when all three were together. It had earned them lots of colds and bug bites, but it earned more quiet whispers of sisterly love and warm hands and warmer smiles. They had all loved the earth, and had spent more time in Jaimee's forest then asleep probably.
Amelia talked a lot about the pure white pets that followed her around the city. She talked about a boy with horns, gray skin, and the saddest eyes. She liked to use as many descriptive words as she could, which was good for Sarah's mission.
Her mission was to save her sisters. She was going to follow them to the cities she was sure they'd been locked at. Sarah was going to bring them home.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams and Crowns
Fantasy~*Self indulgent Homestuck AU/self insert thing for my friends and I*~ Only she can save her little sisters blah blah Focuses on Derse and Prospit I'll definitely change the description up later but for now I'm not sure how to write it without givin...