Then I say, 'Oh, my God, why the hell did I do that?'

This is an example of one of those. It's not really a story, more a look at Rachel.....

'Death is quiet, when it takes, a child's breath before she wakes...'

To  save the many does not mean you can destroy the one.
No matter how big the risk, you cannot sacrifice a life.

__________________________________________

My name is Rachel.
People tell me I'm perfect. I'm above dirt; I can walk into a thunderstorm without getting marked.
I'm above disease. I'm above everything.
My grandmother- Dad's mom- died of leukemia.
Mom had this major scare. I was only about eight years old. I didn't understand; but Mom made
me have all these blood tests, and Jordan, too. When we turned out to be fine, she let it be.
Ever since we were little, Jordan's been copying me.  She took gymnastics too; she fell over a lot.
So it wasn't remarkable that her legs were sore all the time, because  there were bruises all over them.
It all started when Jordan went to the doctor. I was out with Cassie. It was no biggie; Jordan seemed to hurt a lot these days.
Then I came home. I was pretty happy; normal life makes you forget sometimes.
'Rachel?' Mom said when I walked in the door.
'What?' I only began to get scared when I saw her white face. 'Where's Jordan?'
My mother sighed. I didn't think I'd ever seen her looking so tired. 'Honey, the doctors think- they think that Jordan has a disease.'
'What kind of disease?' I asked, stopping in the middle of getting a can of coke out the fridge.
'Cancer.'
I froze.
'Bone cancer. She's going in for tests tomorrow.'.'  She sighed a long, quavering sigh.
'Oh, Mom, I'm sorry.'
I stood quietly, staring out the window. Suddenly, the dark street and the night seemed more important than I'd ever realized.
'Does she know?'
'Yes. I just thought that you would like to, too.' For a lawyer, for the most practical person I knew, she looked lost. Hopeless. I felt like it too.
I sat in bed at night and marveled that I felt nothing. Empty.
In all I'd seen, all the people enslaved or killed, my sister being sick seemed so trivial. So many people
die by Yeerk hands. So many people die by my hands. What did it matter if a girl died naturally?
But then I felt terrible, inhuman for thinking so.

So that's how it went. Strange, almost like a nightmare I wanted to wake up from at first. It wasn't like me to ignore something like this, to run away. But Jordan now definitely had cancer, and was probably going to die.
Jake found out of course. 'How do you feel?'
'How do you think I feel?' I asked bitterly and walked away. I had been in Cassie's barn at the time, so there was nowhere to walk to but the forest. Tobias, of course, followed me.
<Rachel....>
'Leave me alone.' I didn't want to talk to anyone- not even Tobias- about Jordan, about anything. I was lost; Rachel the Mighty had shrunk to Rachel the weak, Rachel the helpless. It wasn't a good feeling.
<Rachel, it's not good to be alone when you're like this.>
'Isn't that a shame!' I said, turning around towards the hawk. 'Because I want to be alone. Get.'
He respected my wishes and flew away.

In the months that came, I spent more and more time killing and less time with my sister. She was the one that needed me; but I was too scared, too cowardly, to see my ever-weaker sister.
She got moved to the hospital, and one day, the news came.
Jordan had accelerated to brain cancer.
I didn't cry when I heard. I went to her side.
'Hi, sis,' I said hoarsely, looking at the frail figure in the bed. Tubes were infesting her body; anything seemed better than this.
'Hi, Rach.' Her dark eyes opened.
'How're you feeling?'
She smiled slightly. 'Like crap warmed up.'
I reached for her hand. 'I'm sorry.'
Jordan gazed at me. 'That's silly. Why should you feel sorry? I feel lucky.'
'Why? You're covered in pipes... you're bald...' I smiled sadly. Her chemotherapy had wrecked her dark hair.
'Because I got to be Jordan, Rachel.' She closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep.

I asked myself that night: Could someone morph out of cancer?
The question rolled around in my brain. It marched on through everything else, with an answering question-
Could someone morph out of cancer?
What if you can save her?
Could someone morph out of cancer?
What if you can save her?
Could someone-
What if-
morph-
can save her?

I took the cube and flew into the hospital, clutching it in my talons. There was a large windowsill, so I put it on there and shoved myself into the room. I demorphed and walked over to Jordan's bed.
Jordan was sleeping. 'Jordan?' I whispered.
Her eyelids fluttered. 'Rachel?' she whispered back, barely audible.
I took her weak hand. 'Put your hand on this,' I said, placing it on the box.
'Rachel-'
'Shush.' I placed my own hand on the box and prayed. I'm not a Christian. But there's a quote:
'There are no atheists in foxholes.' Well, no person with a dying sister can be an atheist, either.
Please. Save my sister.
I felt the tingle and I looked at Jordan. Her face was deathly white.
Putting the blue box on the table beside her, I gave her my hand again. 'Concentrate, Jordan. Please.'
Her eyes were closed.
'Jordan.' I whispered urgently.
Her fingers weakly clamped down on mine. I willed myself to go sleepy, passive whilst she acquired me. I was too hyped to, though.
'Okay, Jordan. That was good. Great. Now, I want you to become me.'
'Whah.' It was a statement. Her eyes were still closed.
I pinched her. 'Become me. Morph.'
Her eyes opened, tired, old. 'Rachel..'
'Do it!'
Ever so slowly, she began to change.
Blonde hair sprouted out her scalp. Withered muscles began to change; but it was painfully, painfully slow.
'Go, Jordan. You can do it.' The hand I was holding became my hand.
She was about 2 thirds of the way through when she stopped. 'I can't do it.'
'You have to!'
'Can't I stop? I'm so tired.'
I thought quickly. Her entire head had changed. Wouldn't that be enough?
'Yes, you can. Morph back.'
The change was as painful as it had been last time, but she went back. Surprisingly, her hair wasn't there. Had I made a mistake? Was it some strange physics of morphing?
I knew what I had done. By giving Jordan the power, by letting her wake up the next day healthy, would endanger me.
My friends. Possibly we would die. But I did not feel for them; all I could do was think about Jordan.
I kissed my sister's brow and left her. 'Sleep well.'

My sister was going to live! I had pulled it off! There was hope, now.

I woke up actually smiling. I hadn't smiled for a long time. I pulled on my clothes for school and went downstairs. The phone rang.
'Hello?' I asked, a bounce in my voice.
It was Mom. Her voice chilled me. 'Rachel...'
'What?'
'Rachel, your sister is dead.'

I fainted.

Then I woke up.

It all started when Jordan went to the doctor. I was out with Cassie. It was no biggie; Jordan seemed to hurt a lot these days.
Then I came home. I was pretty happy; normal life makes you forget sometimes.
Makes you forget your choices. Makes you forget you can't change everything; makes you forget that to save the many does not mean you can destroy the one.

No matter how big the risk, you cannot sacrifice a life.

I forget that sometimes.

__________________________
 

Yup, it's definitely a 'Guard, switch to decaf!' story!