Brace for impact

Your parents look at you again, their mouths drawn into thin lines. Dad speaks first, staring you down with hard eyes.

"What did you do..?" He doesn't sound as mad as you thought he might be, surprise supplanting any disapproval. You swallow, unable to maintain eye contact.

"I... miiiight have played a tiny, harmless, insignificant little prank on her?" You smile nervously, complementing your confession with a shrug. Honestly, compared to the years of torment and belittling you've taken from Theresa, that little note on her arm wasn't even a drop in the bucket. You hadn't even used a sharpie! The words should come right off, since they haven't been given hours of fitful sleep to settle on the skin.

Still, you've never retaliated before. Even this slight, miniscule action against her may have just been the lighting of an incredibly short fuse. You really didn't think this all the way through, did you? Theresa isn't giving you time to think of an apology as you hear angry footsteps marching this way. She didn't even take the time to get dressed! Face beet red, your sister tromps into the living room in only a house robe and hopefully some underwear underneath. Though the robe is closed, you try to avert your eyes out of fear and modesty, but her loud voice snaps you back to her attention.

"What the hell is this?!" She barks at you, sticking her arm out for everyone to see. The three of you inspect her arm, reading the short message written on it, followed by your signature. Your parents give each other a puzzled look, then turn back to face their daughter. Your heart drops into your toes, envisioning the hundreds of ways this could go wrong. What if they thought it was a legitimate threat, and not one of mischief?? You're so dead.

"Well..." Mom starts. "I don't know what you did to upset your owner so much, but perhaps you should apologize before it gets worse."

...Wait, what? WHAT?

Both you and your sister stare at Mom, aghast at the mere implications of her words. Theresa inspects her arm again and gasps, as if something new had manifested in front of her. You're more focused on your mother, but you see Theresa's arms go slack in your periphery.

"Whaaaa-what did you say, Mom? Just now?" You can't mask the shock in your voice, staring with mouth agape. She blinks at you, furrowing her brow a little.

"I said that she ought to apologize to you, since she's clearly upset you. You wouldn't leave your property a note like that if she hadn't wronged you somehow, right?"

"My property????" What kind of joke is this? The hell is Mom on about?

"She's right, Tess," Dad says with a heavy sigh. "Whatever you did, just say you're sorry and hope he forgives you. Honestly, you should be more careful with your owner. I know he's your brother, but that's no excuse to misbehave."

You don't know who to stare at more. Your parents just told Theresa to... apologize to you? And called her your property?! Why were they acting like you owned her all of a sudden?? More than that, why was Theresa just standing there, taking it?

Finally braving a glance over at your sister, you're shocked by what you see. Big, bad, boss bitch Theresa is staring at the floor, shaking with what you assume to be rage. Her knuckles are white on her balled fists. When her gaze snaps up to meet yours, her eyes are glassy, welling up with tears. With a quivering breath and a sniffle, she addresses you.

"I'm sorry, Gavin..." Her voice is barely more than a whisper, caught in her heaving chest, but clear as day in an otherwise silent room. "I'm sorry I drew all over you last night. I'm sorry for all the names and the pushing you around and... a-and..." It dawns on you that Theresa isn't shaking out of anger, but fear. This bad joke is going on for a bit too long for your tastes.

"Tess..." No matter how badly your sister has treated you, it breaks your heart to see her so upset.

"P-please... please forgive me... I don't want to be punished..."

Rushing forward, you wrap your arms around Theresa and hold her tight. "Stop! Just stop, please, I don't want this. It isn't funny!" Theresa freezes in your grip, chin pressed against your shoulder. You can feel her chest mashing against yours, and know for certain that she hadn't put a bra on in advance.

Mom clears her throat, frowning. "What's not funny, sweetie? That sounded like a pretty sincere apology to me."

Not letting go of your sister, you glance back at your mother, bewildered. "Why is everyone acting like I own Tess? Why is she so scared?"

Your parents look at each other again, as confused as you are. "Because... you do own her," says Mom. "Your name is written right there on her arm. Are you feeling alright, sweetie? You're acting strange."

"I'm acting strange?? What does my name-"

Name. Written on her arm. The dream.

That can't be it. It can't be true, that's impossible. It was just a dream! You can't just lay claim to something by writing your name on it, especially your own sister! And yet... here you are, having the strangest conversation with your parents, holding onto your sister who is shaking like a leaf in your arms.

You pull back, still holding Theresa by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. She doesn't speak or sniffle, holding back the tears she's been ordered not to let fall. You're still not buying into this whole situation, but you can't just let Theresa suffer like this. If this turns out to be some stellar acting, you can be mad later. For now, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Tess, relax. I forgive you. You're not in trouble. You don't have to behave any differently just because... I 'own' you. Just, y'know, don't prank me anymore."

She nods emphatically, reaching forward to hug you again, this time of her own volition. "I promise, I won't! Thank you, Gavin..." she sniffles again, her body limp with relief. Your mind races, still trying to figure out what **** trip dream dimension you've inadvertently stumbled into.

You're jostled by a firm pat on your back and a pleased grin from your father. "Attaboy, Gavin. Good on ya, bein' the bigger man on this." Okay, you know your Dad couldn't convincingly lie if his life depended on it and was a terrible actor. Did they all really believe this insanity? Meanwhile, your Mom sighs contentedly, pleased with how the situation turned out.

"Well! Now that everything is settled, why don't we have lunch? You two slept in late, so I'm sure you're hungry. Tess, you go get dressed and-... oh." She pauses, rethinking her words. "Gavin, you don't mind if Tess gets dressed, right? It's up to you, after all."

You can only be flabbergasted for so long. This 'ownership' thing is getting exhausting as you rub the bridge of your nose. "Yes, that's fine. Don't act differently on my account." The three of them give you a perplexed look, but don't push the issue further.

Before your sister can get too far, you take hold of her arm gently. "Hey, Tess."

She looks back at you, nerves winding up again. "Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I come with you? We need to talk."

Her cheeks flare up again, and you're oddly relieved to see a stir of anger mixing in with her nervousness. "I can't really tell you no, can I."