“Leave me alone,” Crochet said. She was leaning forwards, attention on the needle that was slipping in and out of the beige cloth she had cut out from an old blouse. Each dip and pull of the needle left behind a tiny stitch that she could feel with her power. It was coming along nicely.

“But I’m bored,” Cheshire said. She was on the couch in the living room, head and shoulders over the edge and legs kicking out in protest. “I wanna do stuff.”

“No. Big Sis told us to stay at home. So we will listen to what she said and obey. That’s what we’re supposed to do, and that’s what we will do. Big Sis is going to be very proud of us when she gets back home.” She didn’t add ‘but especially me’ at the end, but she certainly thought it.

“You’re lame,” Cheshire said.

“I am not lame,” Crochet shot back. She wished her response wasn’t so weak, but she couldn’t think of anything better. So she stuck her nose up and pretended that she couldn’t hear her immature slightly bigger sister.

Cheshire grumbled something and rolled off the couch. A moment later the TV came on and filled the house with the noise of people talking, then the weather being announced, and eventually cartoonish sounds of violence. Cheshire had found something to do, finally.

Smiling to herself, Crochet inspected all of her work. One of Danny’s pants had had its holes sewn back together. The cut wasn’t even visible anymore, one of Taylor’s shirts that had a big juice stain down the back was clean now, thanks to a creative use of her power, and her pet project was nearly complete.

She raised it, turning it this way and that before reaching out with her power and bringing a few pieces of cotton closer. A few passes with the scissors and some quick stitches and she had a tiny hand-sized hoodie which she slid over her new plush. It was perfect.

“What’s ‘at?”

Crochet jumped in her seat and quickly squeezed her plush to her chest. “It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Show me,” Cheshire demanded.

“No,” Crochet said. She shook her head and tucked it closer. “No way will I let a ruffian like you touch her.”

“Her?” Cheshire said. Her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Lemme see.”

“No.” Crochet turned her back to her sister and hopped off her chair. She started to stomp away, only to feel a wash of cold pass through her. Cheshire appeared in front of her out of a cloud of dark smoke. She had her arms crossed, clawed paws over each bicep.

“Show me,” Cheshire said. She glared a little harder, then sighed. “I promise I won’t touch it.”

“Promise?” Crochet asked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Nodding slowly, she pulled the plushie away from her chest and turned it over so Cheshire could see it. It was maybe a foot tall, humanoid and wearing jeans under a beige hoodie. Long black hair made from scraps of black fabric hung down it its hips and it had a wide, wide smile on its face. “It’s a little big sis,” Crochet added unnecessarily. “I couldn’t find anything to make it some glasses, but I’ll...” she let her voice trail off at seeing the look on Cheshire’s face. “You promised!” she warned.

“Gimme!” Cheshire pounced at her with hands outstretched.

“No!” Crochet screamed. She ducked under the grab and ran back towards the kitchen table.

Every needle on the table rose and took off like missles, trailing little bits of string after them as they shot towards Cheshire. She laughed and phased out of their path, letting them plant harmlessly into the walls.

“Give her to me!” Cheshire screamed.

“Never, you--you ruffian!” Crochet jumped over the arm of the couch, picked up a folded blanket on the end, and tossed it back. It unfurled in the air like a net to catch Cheshire.

Grinning like a cat after a mouse, the girl jumped to the side, phased out of reality, and returned with both feet planted above the television. She shot off after Crochet like a rocket. “I’m older, she should be mine!”

“You’ll just hurt her!” Crochet said as she ducked under the lunge.

“Mine!”

Their crash turned into a roll across the carpeted living room, Cheshire on top, then Crochet, in a whirling mess of at least twenty elbows and twice that many knees. They rammed into a table.

Both girls stopped when they heard a wobble, then a shake, then nothing for a whole, horrible second. The clatter and crack of glass on the floor had them both wincing.

A picture frame had fallen, edge first. Glass spread out everywhere and the frame bent out of shape on impact. “Oh no,” Crochet said.

“It’s y’er fault,” Cheshire said.

“No, it’s yours!” Crochet screamed right back. “Now big sis is never going to love us.”

“Nah, she’ll still like us.” Cheshire’s face went pale. “Right? She, she’ll still give us headpats?”

Crochet felt the first tears threatening to come out and saw the same on Cheshire’s face. “We’re in so much trouble,” she squeaked.

They got to their feet and looked around. There were needles in the walls, the tossed blanket had flung magazines from off a side table and two neat little pawprints stained the wall above the television. Worse, there was now a cracked and broken picture of a smiling Annette Hebert on the floor in the middle of a sea of glass.

Crochet got her tears under control and took a deep breath. “Here,” she said. She extended the hand holding little big sis towards Cheshire who took it without thinking. “I’ll... I’ll take care of all of this. You, you do whatever.”

Cheshire looked down at the plushie in her hand, She squeezed it a little, thumb rubbing over the plush hoodie, then carefully, she placed it sitting on the couch. “Nah, I’ll help,” she said.

***

When Danny had finished supper and put his plate in the sink, he stretched a little and moved over to the living room. It was quiet in the house. Surprisingly quiet for a home with three young ladies in it. Then he heard Crochet scream at Cheshire and smiled. That was better.

Sitting down with an oomph, he searched for the remote in the cracks of the sofa and was about to turn on the TV when something caught his eye.

How in the world did footprints end up above the television, he wondered.