Twice Again

Maybe This Is Good

She's little.

I get it.

But that doesn't mean she can't learn to do homework herself.

Why do I always have to help her?

Am I not good enough to do anything else?

"How do you spell seahorse?"

I spell it out on my screen for her.

"Thank you!"

Such a simple thing. But she's so happy.

Maybe this is good.

"Did you know that seahorse daddies have babies?"

Of course I did. But she's moved on.

"Where do seahorses live?"

I write out a question.

"Which type?"

"I don't know. The cute ones!"

That doesn't help me.

But I need to help her.

People don't usually like helping me.

Maybe that's why I'm upset.

She's so little. Just give her an answer.

"Shallow and warm coastal waters."

"Thank you, Evera! How do you spell that?"

Silence. She looks at my screen.

"Thanks so much for helping me! Sometimes, when I'm at school, I think something is hard..."

And off she goes.

She's happy. She's thankful I'm helping her.

Maybe this is good.

"... and sometimes the other kids don't like helping me because they think I'm weird because they think you're weird, but you're the best sister in the whole wide big wide world! I love you sooooooo much!"

I ruined her social life.

She's so little and I've messed up her life.

This is why they want me to help her.

Because I'm the reason nobody else wants to.

She doesn't get it.

I'm horrible for her.

So at least I can help her. Make up my faults.

Maybe this is good.

Make it a net zero.

I wish I could make it more. More than zero.

Help without destroying.

Even if just once again.

I want to be more. Better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Can my friends come to our house today Evera?"

Why is she asking me?

"What did Mom and Dad say?"

"They said to ask you, remember?"

No, not particularly.

But I am talking to it's probably a dream again.

"Sure, why?"

"We need help with a group project and they all think you're super smart and super nice and super cool and that you cook really nice food and they all wish they had a super cool sister like you!"

So this is what it's like being able-bodied.

People actually like you.

And you don't destroy your little sister's life.

"Oh, uh, that's nice. I guess I can try to help."

"Now they're here! You're the best, Evera! You're always helping us. We always talk about you at school!"

Being talked about for a good reason.

That's new.

So many children coming to hug me.

I'm being suffocated.

They won't let go.

Nevermind, I'm awake now. I just had a breathing attack.

Nobody likes me that much.