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My alarm rang, 9:00, I had to get ready soon; I had a big day ahead of me. I climbed down the stairs from the upper bed of the bunk I shared with my sister, Jessica. I looked down at the sleeping form of my sister, and was tempted to just throw a pillow at her dreaming face and wake her up from her slumber, like normal twins do. But I didn’t, instead I climbed down the stairs, careful not to wake my mothers’ precious little angel. I closed the door of the bathroom we shared and brushed my teeth while listening to my mother, who just entered the room, coax my sister out of bed.
“Come on my angel, I’ll help you get into that favorite white shirt of yours, and then we can eat French toast!” my mother smiled as she ruffled my sisters’ brown hair.
“Thank you mother!” Jessica said as she hugged my mom.
I could just imagine them, my mother telling my sister that she made her favorite food, as she helped my sister into her favorite shirt, as she did my sisters’ hair into her favorite hairstyle, it was just too much. I kicked open the door and walked to my closet to pick out my shirt. They were all given to me a year ago. There was nothing new for me, just for my beloved sister. I picked out a black airy shirt and skinny blue jeans, and went to change.
My mother called out,” Krystal! Hurry up! Your sister is waiting here! You know she is helpless, and so she takes a long time because of her legs, you should know better…!”
I tuned out what my mother was saying, because I knew what was coming up next, how my sister was helpless because of her crippled legs and how I shouldn’t take advantage of her poor little darling. Crippled yes, helpless no, my sister had plenty of tricks up her sleeve. My mother never looked at me with those kind, sympathetic, loving eyes, no, those were specially reserved for Jess. I made a fist, why won’t she ever look at me like that? Why won’t she ever care about me like that? What did I do wrong?
“Krystal! You are taking forever!” My mother said. “You don’t want your sister to be late! We have to get her a nice dress for her birthday!”
For the record, it was my birthday, too! We were twins, how could our mother forget that? But still, that wasn’t the worst thing that happened in my life. I didn’t even bother to correct her. I walked out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand and combed my wavy red hair on the bed.
“Thank you!” my mother sighed with exasperation. “Come on now, Jess! We are going to get you a beautiful dress, my angel!”
I pulled my hair into a simple twisted updo and hurried down the stairs to put on my boots. Half an hour later, my sister emerged with my mother trailing behind her.
“Oh Steve, doesn’t she look beautiful?” my mother sighed.
“Yes, she definitely does Lois. You know what this calls for?” Dad asked them.
“What?” my sister squealed. She truly loved being center of attention.
“A family selfie!” Dad shouted as he pulled out his phone.
My mother kissed my sisters’ cheek and my father draped his arm over his “family” and took a picture. None of them seemed to know I was there, waiting on the table, not being included, or admired.
“Everyone get ready, French toast coming up!” My mom gave my sister and dad three French toasts, while I got only one.
“Can’t I get another one?” I asked.
“Now, now, Krystal, don’t get fat!” My mother chuckled.
My sister laughed. I glared at her and added,” Yes, I think that is a good idea, not getting fat, but clearly, we need to do something about Jessica! She can’t even fit in her wheelchair! I think she needs to get up and stretch her legs and run! Oh, I forgot, you can’t!” I smirked.
My sister started to fake-whimper and my mother rushed to her side like a robot.
“Krystal! That was so mean of you! You should feel bad about yourself!”
But I didn’t, and it felt good to say something back to my sister.
Soon, we finished our toast and headed into the car. We drove for about a mile, when my eyes started to cloud over and get misty.
Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I gasped. I was In my sisters’ wheelchair! My mother was singing a song, and I realized that I was in the body of my sister in the morning! My sister must have realized that too, because she stopped combing and was pulling me out of my seat.
“Mom! Krystal is sitting in my wheelchair!” Jessica cried.
Mom shook her head.” Krystal, pulling your sister out of her wheel chair, what has gotten into you? Hurting my sweetheart?”
My heart bloomed with an emotion I never felt before. If that was how love felt, then I loved it.
My sister must have realized that arguing was hopeless, so she resumed combing “her” hair.
The entire day went on like this, and soon it was night. My mom kissed my head, when my eyes started growing misty and clouding over.
I opened my eyes and realized my sister did so too. I realized that I never would be loved again, that the “vision” must’ve been a dream. I looked at my sister, our gazes locked, and a feeling of understanding washed through both of us. My sister must have felt how it was like to be not loved, and a glimmer of hope bloomed in my chest when she smiled. Not her smirk, or evil grin, it was a kind, sympathetic, understanding smile. My hopes lifted, maybe, we would put the past behind us, and focus on the future. Maybe, she would be kinder. Maybe, I would have a better future. Maybe, things would change. Maybe, I’ll be loved.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

My alarm rang, 9:00, I had to get ready soon; I had a big day ahead of me. I climbed down the stairs from the upper bed of the bunk I shared with my sister, Jessica. I looked down at the sleeping form of my sister, and was tempted to just throw a pillow at her dreaming face and wake her up from her slumber, like normal twins do. But I didn’t, instead I climbed down the stairs, careful not to wake my mothers’ precious little angel. I closed the door of the bathroom we shared and brushed my teeth while listening to my mother, who just entered the room, coax my sister out of bed.
“Come on my angel, I’ll help you get into that favorite white shirt of yours, and then we can eat French toast!” my mother smiled as she ruffled my sisters’ brown hair.
“Thank you mother!” Jessica said as she hugged my mom.
I could just imagine them, my mother telling my sister that she made her favorite food, as she helped my sister into her favorite shirt, as she did my sisters’ hair into her favorite hairstyle, it was just too much. I kicked open the door and walked to my closet to pick out my shirt. They were all given to me a year ago. There was nothing new for me, just for my beloved sister. I picked out a black airy shirt and skinny blue jeans, and went to change.
My mother called out,” Krystal! Hurry up! Your sister is waiting here! You know she is helpless, and so she takes a long time because of her legs, you should know better…!”
I tuned out what my mother was saying, because I knew what was coming up next, how my sister was helpless because of her crippled legs and how I shouldn’t take advantage of her poor little darling. Crippled yes, helpless no, my sister had plenty of tricks up her sleeve. My mother never looked at me with those kind, sympathetic, loving eyes, no, those were specially reserved for Jess. I made a fist, why won’t she ever look at me like that? Why won’t she ever care about me like that? What did I do wrong?
“Krystal! You are taking forever!” My mother said. “You don’t want your sister to be late! We have to get her a nice dress for her birthday!”
For the record, it was my birthday, too! We were twins, how could our mother forget that? But still, that wasn’t the worst thing that happened in my life. I didn’t even bother to correct her. I walked out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand and combed my wavy red hair on the bed.
“Thank you!” my mother sighed with exasperation. “Come on now, Jess! We are going to get you a beautiful dress, my angel!”
I pulled my hair into a simple twisted updo and hurried down the stairs to put on my boots. Half an hour later, my sister emerged with my mother trailing behind her.
“Oh Steve, doesn’t she look beautiful?” my mother sighed.
“Yes, she definitely does Lois. You know what this calls for?” Dad asked them.
“What?” my sister squealed. She truly loved being center of attention.
“A family selfie!” Dad shouted as he pulled out his phone.
My mother kissed my sisters’ cheek and my father draped his arm over his “family” and took a picture. None of them seemed to know I was there, waiting on the table, not being included, or admired.
“Everyone get ready, French toast coming up!” My mom gave my sister and dad three French toasts, while I got only one.
“Can’t I get another one?” I asked.
“Now, now, Krystal, don’t get fat!” My mother chuckled.
My sister laughed. I glared at her and added,” Yes, I think that is a good idea, not getting fat, but clearly, we need to do something about Jessica! She can’t even fit in her wheelchair! I think she needs to get up and stretch her legs and run! Oh, I forgot, you can’t!” I smirked.
My sister started to fake-whimper and my mother rushed to her side like a robot.
“Krystal! That was so mean of you! You should feel bad about yourself!”
But I didn’t, and it felt good to say something back to my sister.
Soon, we finished our toast and headed into the car. We drove for about a mile, when my eyes started to cloud over and get misty.
Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I gasped. I was In my sisters’ wheelchair! My mother was singing a song, and I realized that I was in the body of my sister in the morning! My sister must have realized that too, because she stopped combing and was pulling me out of my seat.
“Mom! Krystal is sitting in my wheelchair!” Jessica cried.
Mom shook her head.” Krystal, pulling your sister out of her wheel chair, what has gotten into you? Hurting my sweetheart?”
My heart bloomed with an emotion I never felt before. If that was how love felt, then I loved it.
My sister must have realized that arguing was hopeless, so she resumed combing “her” hair.
The entire day went on like this, and soon it was night. My mom kissed my head, when my eyes started growing misty and clouding over.
I opened my eyes and realized my sister did so too. I realized that I never would be loved again, that the “vision” must’ve been a dream. I looked at my sister, our gazes locked, and a feeling of understanding washed through both of us. My sister must have felt how it was like to be not loved, and a glimmer of hope bloomed in my chest when she smiled. Not her smirk, or evil grin, it was a kind, sympathetic, understanding smile. My hopes lifted, maybe, we would put the past behind us, and focus on the future. Maybe, she would be kinder. Maybe, I would have a better future. Maybe, things would change. Maybe, I’ll be loved.