The next day was Friday, the day that Michael was to drive his little sister to school. As he got her ready for school, he was surprised at how well behaved she was. She did everything he wanted her to without him having to ask twice.
"Mikey, guess what I'm going to be when I grow up?" Grace said, sitting down in her chair without having to be practically tied down, as Michael had expected.
"What?" He asked as he made her breakfast.
"A husky trainer." Grace stated proudly.
Michael nodded and smiled weakly. It's safe to say he wasn't a morning person, and Grace's shrill voice was acting a little like a drill into his head.
"Mikey?" Grace sat down in her chair at the kitchen table, addressing Michael who was presently buttering her toast at the counter.
"Yeah?"
"What are you going to be when you grow up?"
Michael thought about the question and realized that he didn't know. He had thought about it many times, about what he would do after high school, what he would go to college for. Money didn't grow on trees, after all. He wanted to have a definitive idea of what he wanted to be before he went to college, but he didn't have any idea what that might be. There was nothing he truly enjoyed enough that he wanted to spent the rest of his life doing it.
Grace must have been worried by her brother's sudden silence, because she asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Michael nodded, although Graces question was still nagging at him. He had thought about what he wanted to be when he grew up all through elementary school but never given it too much effort since he had known he had lots of time and would probably just change his mind later, but now the deadline he had created for himself was rapidly approaching and he still had no idea.
He sighed and handed Grace her toast.
"Mikey?" Grace took a bite of her breakfast.
"Yeah?"
"Everything happens for a reason, right?"
Michael smiled. "I guess so...yeah."
"So you don't have to worry," Grace patted his hand gently. "Everything will turn out okay in the end."
Michael felt like crying. How was it possible for one person, let alone a four year old, to be so intuitive and wise beyond her years?
"You're right," Michael nodded. "I don't have to worry at all."
---
About half an hour later, Michael exited the house and walked towards his truck, his little sister on his heels.
"Come sit in the front." Michael told Grace, climbing into the drivers side.
"But..." Grace gave Michael a hesitant look. "Aren't little girls supposed to sit in the back in a car seat?"
"I can watch you easier this way." Michael reached across the passenger seat and pushed open the door, gesturing for his sister to hop in.
She did as she was told, and when she clicked her seatbelt closed, the waist belt wouldn't tighten enough to fit snugly against her tiny body and the chest strap was about an inch over her head.
"Mikey..." Grace sighed, pulling at the seatbelt. "What if a policeman pulls us over. This is probably against the law."
"That's not going to happen." Michael rolled his eyes at his sisters nervousness, starting the ignition and pulling onto the road.
"But look," Grace pointed up to the sun visor. "It says: 'The back seat is the safest place for children, children can be killed or seriously injured by the air bags.' What if we get in an accident?"
Michael was amazed by his sisters reading skills, but he still rolled his eyes again. "It's okay, Grace. I've never been in an accident in my life. Why would I be in one now? It's just for one ride." Michael's worries about driving his sister were rapidly being confirmed.
Grace nodded slowly, but she didn't look convinced.
They drove for a few minutes in silence and then Michael felt bad and brought up a conversation.
"So, do you still want to be a husky trainer when you grow up?"
"No," Grace laughed as if Michael was incredibly silly for thinking this. "Michael..?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it possible for me to be you when I grow up?" Grace looked up at him with her big, hopeful eyes.
"Um..." Michael felt a huge smile cover his face. "I don't know. You want to be me when you grow up?"
"Yeah!" Grace giggled. It was at these moments, when she let a giggle through, that Michael could truly believe she was four years old.
"Why? I suck!" Michael smiled even wider.
"No you don't." Grace cocked her head.
"Well, why do you want to be me?" Michael was no longer just humouring his sister; he was truly curious.
"Because..." Grace was obviously choosing her words very carefully. "because you're my big brother, and my greatest role model."
Michael was at a loss, and not just because his four year old sister had used the term "role model".
"Well...what's one good thing about me?" Michael asked after a moment of silence.
"You're smart." Grace said without hesitation.
"No I'm not," Michael wanted to laugh. "You saw my report card!"
"No, silly!" Grace smiled. "Not school smart-although I think you could be school smart if you applied yourself a little more. You're people smart. You know how to talk to people. You know how people act, even if you try to hide it."
Michael could not believe the words that were coming out of Grace's mouth. Not only did she sound like someone with a degree in psychology, she had discovered something even Michael didn't know but, now that he thought about it, realized was true. Michael did know how people acted. He had always brushed this gift aside as something average, but he was able to predict was people would do a split second before they did it, and he knew what their reactions would be to anything if he thought about it enough. How did his little sister know him better than he knew himself?
"Okay...anything else?" Michael asked, and then gave a sheepish shrug at the look on Grace's face when she heard his words.
"People listen to you," Grace said, smiling. "There's just something about about you that people can't say no to."
Michael wasn't exactly sure what his sister meant by this, but his heart was warmed nonetheless. He realized what his sister was saying: she would give up who she was just to be him. Sure, she was four years old and probably wouldn't think this way forever, but he didn't care.
"Well, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up." Michael said to Grace.
"What?"
"You." He turned and smiled at her.
In that moment that Michael turned away from the road, something happened that would change his life forever.
A big, black truck going at least three times the speed limit, with a drunk driver behind the wheel swerved into the wrong lane, hitting Michaels truck head on.
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and, at the same time, faster than normal. The windshield cracked outward like a spiderweb, showering glass down upon Michael and his little sister. Michael heard a scream and then...nothing. He was plummeting into darkness, darkness all around him, suffocating him...
Michael awoke to a slow beeping.
He took a deep breath and the beeping sped up. The abrupt change jarred him even further awake and his eyes snapped open. Panic filled his veins. Oh no, no, no!
"Michael?" A familiar voice asked from across the room. Michaels mother came into view. Her eyes were bright red and puffy, and her face was covered in streaked mascara and tears. "Michael! You're awake!"
Michael was instantly wrapped in a tight embrace from his mother.
"Mom, Grace! Is Grace okay?" A little part of him knew before he asked the question. A part of his heart could feel it.
His mothers eyes filled with fresh tears, she put a hand over her mouth and let out a great sob.
Michael's worst fears were confirmed. He half expected his heart monitor to flatline right then and there - maybe he wanted it to, really - but all it did was speed up it's stupid beeping.
Black spots swam before his eyes and his vision rapidly blurred. "No, no, no." He shook his head. It couldn't be true. But the tears came anyway. With a sob, He grabbed his left wrist with his right hand and squeezed as hard as he could. Maybe if he inflicted some pain upon himself, he would wake up from this terrible nightmare. He knew that he would wake up in his bed at home, his little sister sleeping softly in the next room. He squeezed as hard as his strength could permit and his left hand turned a pasty white colour. This wasn't working. He dug his fingernails in, squeezing even harder. He clenched his right hand as tight as he could and his nails broke the skin. Little red droplets of blood dripped down his wrist and fell onto the sheets the covered him, soaking into the white fabric. His heart monitor was speeding out of control.
"Michael, what are you doing?" His mother grabbed his arm, her voice thick with tears. His mother's touch made him release his grip. The blood rushed back into his left hand, turning it a proper shade of pinkish white. The imprint of his hand was bruised into his wrist, purplish white imprints and little half moon shaped cuts where his fingernails had cut into his skin.
A single word was racing through his head on an endless loop. No, no, no, no.
It was all his fault.
Well, that's chapter...what chapter is this again? lol, idk.
I really enjoyed writing this chapter, which sounds pretty evil, but whatevs ;)
Anyway, thanks for reading!
Loser_Luke
