AN: Yes, I've had this idea since 3.19. So, finally! I don't have an older sibling, so hopefully, it's somewhere close. I based it off of friend's stories/experiences (kind of).

2002:

The gray night began with a steady rain; the patter against the windowpane almost predictable. The droplets skipped across the glass in their slow descent‒a far cry from what was to come. Holding his newborn son, Henry watched as his wife sat on the floor alongside Stevie and Alison. He knew Elizabeth was exhausted, it didn't matter how well or how much she tried to hide it. He could see the desperation throughout her body, but this was not the night to play catch up. Henry was keenly aware of Alison's short history with storms. If there was anything his three-year-old daughter hated more than storms, he had yet to find out. It was always a never-ending ordeal of soothing fears and drying eyes with her, and he wasn't looking forward to adding a newborn to the mix.

"Alright guys, time for bed," Henry called, hoping he could beat the storm by getting everyone to bed before it rolled in.

"Do we have to go to bed? It's only 8:00" Stevie whined.

"Yes," Henry replied firmly.

"But dad…"

"No, c'mon, you heard your dad, Stevie. Time for bed. We're both very tired‒"

"‒But mom…" Stevie continued in her protest.

"Nuh-uh, put your toys away. Time for bed… you too, Noodle," Elizabeth directed.

As the two girls cleaned up the floor, Elizabeth joined Henry at the bottom of the stairs. "You ready for this professor?"

"Oh, yeah...can't wait." The glimmer in his eye made her laugh. He could always make her laugh at the smallest of gestures.

"How's this little guy gonna be tonight?" Elizabeth cooed as she brushed her son's cheek.

"He's going to sleep all night. Isn't that right?" Henry joked.

"If only."

"Okay, we're done," Stevie announced has she and Alison made their way to the stairs.

"Ay, would you looked at that," Henry laughed, "Alright, I guess it's time for bed. Up!"


Alison hid beneath her blankets, she had been for a while. She coward at each crack and subsequent boom of thunder that filled her little, purple room. The thunder, the rain, and the flashes of lightning were more than overwhelming to her senses. But she wanted to be a big girl. Like her parents had talked about. She was already proud of herself for the number of nights she spent without them; she didn't want to ruin it. And then there were her brother's cries. She could hear the muffled wails from her room, and they were loud enough. And with that, she was more than determined to keep a safe distance. Without the comfort of her parents, she pulled the covers up, high around her shoulders, and buried herself deep in the surrounding warmth.

But the warmth did not protect her from the shivers that jolted her body or the paralyzing feeling of her fear.

And then, she thought of her sister.

Alison stepped out of bed with hesitation but was consoled when she thought of where she was headed. As she walked across the hall, her eyes were fixed wide open. She looked once to her left and then to her right, and slowly she would lift her foot and place it gently down on the hardwood. When she was close enough, she threw herself toward the door. The moment her hand fell on the cold, brass handle she was safe; guarded from the fear that lingered across the hall. Wanting to sleep, Alison pushed the door open with the full weight of her body, and just as before, a wave of warmth washed over her.

"Hey...Ali…?" Stevie's voice scratched as she rubbed her eyes.

"Can I‒can I sleep with you?"

Stevie lifted her quilt and moved to the side, making room for her sister, and in return, Alison ran as fast as she could on her little feet; climbing safely into bed with her big sister.

2006:

Alison hopped up the school bus steps ready to start her favorite part of her day‒afternoon bus conversations. She usually sat somewhere in the middle with her friends Molly and Sarah. They would talk and laugh...and complain about Stevie. Alison especially loved this. Her friends took an equal disliking to her sister and being that Stevie was in middle school, Alison was no longer under her thumb, which meant she could talk as much as she wanted...and maybe even extend the truth.

"Guess what? Molly exclaimed as soon as they all sat down, "I got a GameCube. My parents' friend gave it to us."

"That's awesome!" Alison smiled.

"Yeah. Remember when we played it at your house?"

"That's like the only time I play. Stevie won't let me. She says it's hers, and she's the only one who can play it. But maybe, I can go over to your house," Alison replied.

"I'm glad I don't live with Stevie," Sarah confessed.

"She's so mean," Alison scoffed.

" I remember when she locked us out of your house, that one time," Molly said.

"And then my parents didn't do anything."

"Really?" Sarah's eyes widened.

"Yeah, she locked us out when her friend was over and they wouldn't let us in. And my parents wouldn't believe me."

"Stevie gets away with everything," Molly added.

"She does," Alison agreed, "They always believe her."

"But that's not fair," Sarah said.

"My dad just always goes 'Life isn't fair,' and then goes with Stevie."

"That's stupid," Molly replied.

"Yeah, but everyone thinks Stevie's better," Alison muttered.

"But she's not. You're like 100 times-fireball better than her," Sarah shot back.

"All my teachers like her better. They don't like me. I hate how they always talk about her," Alison added.

"I would too," Sarah agreed.

"...She's the worst," Molly mumbled.

"Hmm," Alison smiled as the bus rolled to a stop in front of the McCord house, "Hopefully she's not home. Bye, guys"

2009:

Alison had spent the morning stayed put in her bedroom. It was better she stay upstairs by herself than down in the kitchen with her mother and sister. She had learned from experience not to get involved; even when she felt the need to come to her mother's defense.

This was the new weekend routine. The two days her parents had off were now devoted to yelling at Stevie, and she, them.

It was always something to do with a boy or a trip to a friend's house. And It would always end with Stevie spouting off a "You're the worst," or an "I don't care what you think…"

This was the Stevie known only to the McCords and a few of Alison's friends. The other Stevie was the one presented to the World; a fake, Alison had become more than convinced.

Nevertheless, Alison was never short of reminders about how great her sunshine-sister was.

"Oh, you're sister's a wonderful role model for you," the gray-haired women would say, "4-H, Girl Scouts, Student Council… She's so well-rounded."

They were right… partly. Stevie was a role model‒a role model for "How not to Treat Your Parents." It was no secret, she saw how worn out her parents were; and especially how distraught her mother was.

She felt terrible for her mother. Alison was always cautious, her grandparent's death was always in the back of her mind. She could never treat her mother that bad, and she told herself she never would.

She was nothing like her sister.

She was better.

There was nothing to compare, anymore. She had won‒even if she was the only one who knew it.

2013:

At the request of her mother, Alison reluctantly handed the camera to her brother. She knew the picture wouldn't come out; ruined by blur or a finger. But he wanted to take a picture, so of course, he got to.

She looked at the three of them lined in a row: Dad, Stevie, and Mom. It was all so official, Stevie in her cap and gown‒the Valedictorian. It was just more material for comparison.


"We especially owe this day to our parents…" Stevie went on.

As Alison listened from the bleachers, she couldn't help but smirk at the irony.

"I can't believe she gets away with this," Alison whispered to her brother in disbelief.

"I just wanna go home..." Jason mumbled as he looked down at his feet, more entertained by the dirt they kicked around than his sister's speech.

"Whatever," Alison sighed, and as she did, she looked to her right. Her parents sat on the other side of her brother. They looked so proud and captivated, as they sat in each other's arms.

Alison couldn't help but smile at the display. They were proud, and she decided she could be too. As much as she resented the comparisons, the contradictions, and whatever else rolled on by; her love, her pride, and her admiration for her sister, surpassed all.