as my music blared through my phone into my ears, i walked down the snow-covered street, avoiding the ice at all costs. last year, i broke my ankle when i slipped on the ice. i should’ve known that the ice was there, because it was always winter here in ohio.
all the time.
forever.
as i reached the front porch of my house, i heard a voice scream, “bye ainsley!” i turned and looked. i saw my best friend, saige greenland, in a pair of fleecy pajamas, covered in a hoodie that said, “university of iowa” on it in fluorescent orange lettering. she had this rare disease called “it” and it prevented her from going anywhere out of the house unless in a quarantine suit, as a precaution, because it was contagious.
when saige moved here last year from iowa, i was unaware about her disease. but after my sister said, “we need to get you to the doctor’s and get vaccinated for ‘it.’”, i knew something was up. so after i got vaccinated, i went to saige’s house and asked about if she knew about “it’. she explained everything to me, how she got it, where she got it, and why she moved here to ohio.
“bye.” i muttered. i wasn’t in a really good mood to chat right now. my math teacher, mr. lane, gave me an f on my math quiz. i studied long and hard the night before, by the light of my blue flashlight and under 5 layers of blankets. but he still gave me an f.
i opened the door to the house. inside, i heard my 23-year-old sister, autumn, pouring water into a cup and grabbing a box of tissues. when i was young (about 5 or 6), my mom slipped on some ice, got a serious concussion, and died. so autumn swooped in and took care of me and my younger sister, willow-marie.
“ainsley marissa brian!” scolded autumn. “shut that door right now!”
“sorry.” i muttered under my breath. i slammed the door shut, making the house shake. our house was built in 1989, and hasn’t been repaired yet. our house was on it’s collapsing point. i heard some faint coughing and the sound of…. barfing?
“it’s willow-marie.” said autumn quickly. autumn grabbed the water and the tissue box. she hurried down the hallway and i followed her.
the walls in my younger sister’s room were a pale white. willow-marie’s face was so pale, if her eyes were closed, i would’ve thought that she was camouflaged with the walls.
“drink this” said my older sister softly, putting the cup of water up to willow-marie’s lips. “the doctor said that you need to keep hydrated, or you aren’t going to get better.”
“what happened?” i asked.
“so you know how last week she got sick with a cold?” asked autumn, whipping her head around to turn and face me.
“yeah?”
“well, she was still sick today. so i called the doctor, and the doctor told me that she has…..” autumn took a deep breath and said softly, “‘it’”.
i gasped. what would’ve happened? did willow-marie get it from saige?
i felt tears prickling my eyes. i pushed the door open, ran out, and ran into my room, slamming the door shut. i didn't care if the house shook.
until i found out what happened to my younger sister, i wouldn't care about anyone or anything.
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and for saige greenland, i am also writing another novel called "it".
song: if these sheets were states.