Butterscotch and I spent hours conversing on what was to come and what I could expect from Fate in the coming months. Lots of trials and tribulations were sure to come, but this would actually be an easy few months for me in comparison to what was ahead. My dad would be in jail for a while, and my mom would be in the hospital for a few more weeks. However, I knew that she would lose custody of me and my sister early on due to "mental instability." So my sister, Gemini, and I would be safe with our grandparents, but this didn't mean there wasn't work that needed doing—and I actually received my first quest from Fate.
Quest
-Assist your sister Gemini with healing through her trauma-
Details: The first time around you blamed your sister for what happened between your dad and mom, only solidifying her guilt and shame. This caused cracks to appear in her psyche that she never overcame. This time around, you know better—so be a good big brother and help her deal with her trauma.
Reward: Variable depending on results
This quest made perfect sense to me, as the guilt for how I began to treat my sister after this incident haunted me for the entirety of my life. I knew later in life that I had become a monster to her, but it wasn't until I was an adult that I tried to set things right, and by then she was grown and unwilling to develop a relationship with the monster who tormented her throughout her formative years. So this quest aligned perfectly with what I was already planning on doing, and the fact I would receive a reward for it only sweetened the deal. I also had zero doubts in my capabilities since taking the mental resilience potion. This was something I could do.
So, with Butterscotch by my side, I walked into the living room to wake up my sister.
She's a dainty little thing—so thin a gentle breeze could probably blow her over. She's missing all of the cute chubbiness that should be present on a three-year-old toddler. Neglect and hunger had robbed her of that. She had messy light brown hair and freckles on her face that accented the sunken look of her cheeks.
"Gems, wake up," I said softly, using her pet name to try and put her at ease.
"Hnghh," she mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening to reveal bright blue irises with a haunting shallowness to them. Just like my own.
"Jakie? What's wrong?" she said, bolting up and looking around for threats—unlike how a typical three-year-old should react.
"Nothing's wrong, Gems. I just wanted to talk with you."
Gemini, otherwise known as Gems, visibly relaxed and sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"What did you want to talk about, Jakie?" she asked suspiciously.
"I wanted to talk about the other night… with Mom and Dad," I said carefully.
Her little blue eyes went wide at that, and shame flashed across her face. She looked away, and I saw tears start to well up—her face flushed red.
"No! I don't wanna!" she wailed, shaking her head from side to side frantically.
"Listen—shhh, shhh—it's okay, Gems, it's okay," I said soothingly while putting my hand on her head. She shirked away from me and looked down.
I thought about what this moment had been like the first time around. I had yelled at her to wake up, tears in my own eyes. I had yelled and screamed and cussed at her until I was red in the face. I blamed her for everything—for what had happened that night—but I had gone even further, blaming her for everything that had ever happened between my mom and dad, for everything we had ever experienced together.
She had just sat there and taken every bit of it. I remember how hollow she had looked after I was done, how defeated and empty she must have felt. She never even cried during my angry tirade—just sniffled a few times when my callous remarks hit especially hard. I resolved to do better this time, and I didn't even need a quest to know it was the right thing to do.
"Gems, I know how you must be feeling right now. I'm sure you think you did something wrong or that you caused what happened to Momma, but that's not true."
"You're wrong, Jakie! I asked for something I shouldn't have, and now Momma is in the hospital and Daddy is in jail. I done real bad! Real bad! Real bad!" she said, starting to hit herself as hard as she could.
I did the only thing I could think of to make her stop: I grabbed her up and gave her a strong big brother hug. She started crying—or more like wailing—and beat her small little fists against my chest.
"Shh, shh, shh…" I said comfortingly. "Everything is going to be all right," I said softly. "Let big brother handle it all. I promise you didn't do anything wrong. You are my perfect little sister, and I love you so much."
That only seemed to make her cry even harder, but she had stopped pounding her fists into my chest. I just hugged her as she limply cried into my shirt. It was a long while before the crying stopped. I muttered reassurances and patted her head as she let it all out. I thought of all the pain she must have been carrying—how she had never been allowed to cry before, how no one had ever seen her and told her it was all going to be okay. I was glad I got to be that person.
To be perfectly honest, I wanted to cry with her. I felt deep sadness and regret welling up inside me, wanting so badly to burst out like a broken dam—and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad. My sister and I crying in each other's arms. But instinctually, and possibly thanks to my newfound mental resilience, I could tell that wasn't what she needed right now. She didn't need a brother who was going to be traumatized with her; she needed a strong protector, someone who wouldn't buckle and cry over everything. She needed a life preserver in the ocean of her depression, and I was prepared to be that life preserver.
Eventually, once her cries had quieted to sniffles, I said the only thing that could be said in that moment.
"Gems, it's okay now. Tell me everything and don't hold back."
And there, in that cramped little living room with too much furniture and not enough space, she started spilling all her hidden traumas—all of the fears and pain she carried. Some of it I had caused myself, even before reawakening in this body. She shared how she felt so small, how she felt like everything was her fault. All she had ever known was our parents fighting. She had seen the bruises and the limps our mother often had, and since it was all she had ever known, she believed she must have been the cause.
I simply listened and nodded along, letting her spill her heart out. I think even at three years old she knew deep down that it wasn't really her fault at all—that there was an instinctual belief that life wasn't supposed to be like this.
So in the end, all she needed was honesty.
"Gems, they've been fighting for as long as I can remember too. It's not you, and it never has been. You are not a bad person, and you don't do bad things. If anything, you are the best possible result of our parents staying together at all—because now we have each other. I hate that we've had to go through all of this together, but I'm glad to have you in my life."
She looked up at me, and it was like she was seeing me for the first time. She looked around the room as though she was experiencing everything in a brand-new way. Somehow the haunted look in her eyes seemed to recede, gradually fading away completely. For the first time in her life, she looked like she wanted to be alive.
Then she spoke.
"Jakie… you seem different," she said quietly.
"Is that a bad thing?" I asked worriedly.
"No, of course not!" she squeaked while hugging me again. "It's just… you seem different. You act like a good big brother."
"Well, I promise to be a good big brother from now on. And if I ever say or do anything that hurts you, please let me know right away. I will protect you," I said resolutely.
"Okay, big brother. I love you," she said sweetly.
"I love you too, little sis," I said gently.
And with that, we hugged and cried and laughed away our time until our grandparents came home—and then I got a notification.
Quest Complete