[ WP ] An exploration of the butterfly effect : write a dramatic scene . Then , choose one tiny detail to change in the initial set-up , and play the scene out again . How drastically have things changed ?

I laid on the couch, staring off into space. Light crept in from behind the curtains, but as it began to slowly fade away, I was gradually being left in the encroaching darkness. Although it was a Friday night, this was the usual routine for me – or at least it had been, ever since I flunked out of school and was let go from my job. 
 
 Sitting up, I yawned and began to ponder what I should do with the night. My first thoughts were hitting up my Xbox 360 for some online play, but glancing across the room at the controller, even that felt like too much work. I was about to get up and pee, when my phone began to ring. It was my older sister, Jennifer. 
 
 She was the only one who knew about my current situation. Ever since we were kids, I was always able to open up to her. She always knew how to get me to talk when I isolated myself in my room, and I always looked up to her. She had moved away to another city after graduating college, but we still stayed in contact on Facebook and texted each other. When she did not hear from me for a while, she called, and as always got the truth out of me. As time went on though, I began avoiding her calls as well, especially as things grew worse. 
 
 I had maybe enough money in the bank to cover one more month of rent before I had to relent and call my parents, explaining all that had happened. As far as they knew, everything was going great for me. I had not had the heart to tell them that I had failed to pass any of my finals, or that the landscaping company I had been working for part time collapsed. 
 
 At first I told myself that everything would be alright. That I would find another job, and that if I changed schools, maybe I could start over. Now, I ’ ve always suffered from depression for as long as I can remember, but after a month of being unable to find anything, I soon found myself sleeping later and later, forgetting to eat, and staring off into space far more than usual. Another month after that and I was only leaving the apartment for quick, late night runs to the 24-hour grocery down the street. 
 
 The few friends that I had were too busy with their own lives to really notice what was happening. I had always been a bit quiet and withdrawn, so when I stopped showing up to parties, I don ’ t think anyone really noticed. They would occasionally text me to see what was up, or enquire about grabbing a meal sometime, but I always politely brushed them off by saying I was too busy and maybe we could try again another time. Eventually the messages stopped coming. I didn ’ t want to burden them with my problems, or be a downer in their lives, which so far as I could tell, were going great. 
 
 The phone continued to ring. 
 
 Sighing, I glanced from the Xbox 360 to the phone, and picked it up. 
 
 I ’ m glad I did. We talked for hours, and she explained to me that she loved me, and that no matter how bad things got, we could fix them. If worse came to worse, I could crash on her couch and we could figure out some way to solve the school problem. No matter what happened, she would help support me. All I needed to do was take the first steps to help myself. 
 
 It wasn ’ t much, but it meant the world to me. 
 
 She was killed later that evening, when her vehicle was struck by a drunk driver. I was heartbroken, but what she told me stuck with me. Slowly I began to repair my broken life – I found a job and started to go back to school. Now I have my degree and decent job. I can ’ t help but wonder what my life would be like if I hadn ’ t picked up that call from my sister. 
 
 
 ******************************************************** 
 
 I laid on the couch, staring off into space. Light crept in from behind the curtains, but as it began to slowly fade away, I was gradually being left in the encroaching darkness. Although it was a Friday night, this was the usual routine for me – or at least it had been, ever since I flunked out of school and was let go from my job. 
 
 Sitting up, I yawned and began to ponder what I should do with the night. My first thoughts were hitting up my Xbox One for some online play, but glancing across the room at the controller, even that felt like too much work. Then I remembered, I could turn it on from here. In a hoarse, sleep induced voice, I said “ Xbox On. ” The unit flared to life and illuminated the screen, which I had apparently forgotten to turn off. 
 
 I was about to get up and pee, when my phone began to ring. It was my older sister, Jennifer. 
 
 She was the only one who knew about my current situation. Ever since we were kids, I was always able to open up to her. She always knew how to get me to talk when I isolated myself in my room, and I always looked up to her. She had moved away to another city after graduating college, but we still stayed in contact on Facebook and texted each other. When she did not hear from me for a while, she called, and as always got the truth out of me. As time went on though, I began avoiding her calls as well, especially as things grew worse. 
 
 I had maybe enough money in the bank to cover one more month of rent before I had to relent and call my parents, explaining all that had happened. As far as they knew, everything was going great for me. I had not had the heart to tell them that I had failed to pass any of my finals, or that the landscaping company I had been working for part time collapsed. 
 
 At first I told myself that everything would be alright. That I would find another job, and that if I changed schools, maybe I could start over. Now, I ’ ve always suffered from depression for as long as I can remember, but after a month of being unable to find anything, I soon found myself sleeping later and later, forgetting to eat, and staring off into space far more than usual. Another month after that and I was only leaving the apartment for quick, late night runs to the 24-hour grocery down the street. 
 
 The few friends that I had were too busy with their own lives to really notice what was happening. I had always been a bit quiet and withdrawn, so when I stopped showing up to parties, I don ’ t think anyone really noticed. They would occasionally text me to see what was up, or enquire about grabbing a meal sometime, but I always politely brushed them off by saying I was too busy and maybe we could try again another time. Eventually the messages stopped coming. I didn ’ t want to burden them with my problems, or be a downer in their lives, which so far as I could tell, were going great. 
 
 The phone continued to ring. 
 
 Sighing, I glanced up at the screen. No, not tonight, Jen – I didn ’ t want to bring her down right at the start of the weekend. No, best just to wait and see if she calls back again tomorrow night instead. Tonight would be spent grinding aimlessly in Destiny. I ignored her call. 
 
 Now I wish I had picked up that phone. She was killed later that evening, when her vehicle was struck by a drunk driver. I was heartbroken. My depression intensified and any semblance of a normal, functioning life was swallowed up in complete darkness. I no longer had the will to even try and fight it. 
 
 My parents had to bury two of their children that year. 

