Brothers and Sisters...

There was nothing of value to look at when you looked at her. Yet people seemed to adore her. There was nothing to adore. She was a lunatic. A legitimate, down to the very core of her being psychopath. She liked to hurt people, she had probably killed people. If eyes are the gateway to the soul. These wouldn’t just swallow you up. These would turn you into something just like her if you stared for long enough. And there was no one to stop her.

She was my big sister.

It's not funny, this is what she was, and we had to live with her. I couldn't have any pets because they went missing or seemed to commit suicide at about the same rate that her boyfriends and husbands would later on in life.

No one ever believes me.

She's good at crying. Which is something that you learn to do, in order to get what you want from others as far as I'm concerned. Because no matter how hard I tried. I could never cry like her. Her cry was too perfect. Too much of what people want from a girl crying, no character to it. Always freaked me out. Plus she always managed to be able to convey that she knew that I knew. And there was nothing I could do about. Or she would kill me.

It's hard to love a psychopath. But I swear to God that I tried. I tried to accept her for who she was, but they are robots, and I grew up with a robot. A killer robot. Like the terminator.

And then as it happens we glorify these people! Apparently they're fascinating! That's why you keep on reading this isn't it? It's not because of me? Who am I? I'm a victim? I don't think so. I'll show you how much of a victim I am.

Well, I was a victim. For a time, it's impossible not to be when you have an older sister that has no soul. Not a trace of humanity other than a shell exterior, that and no one believes you for the first thirty years of your life.

Christmas with psychopath. Easter? Hilarious. She always gave the most perfect gifts for everyone at Christmas too, except when, well, when it came to me. They were always a little off, a little disturbing. Too dark. Too creepy. Like she was trying to pass me off like I liked all that dark stuff. It was really her. But I let my family accept her image of me.

It was when she killed her first husband that I had to plan it. I had to kill her. You know that I had to. Fire with fire.

The problem with killing her, was that I'm sure she was prepared for me to come after her one day. She knew that I was the only one that knew, and she knew that I had tried to convince others to no avail.

That didn't stop what had to happen though. So I set in motion a plan to kill my own sister. Which sounds much worse unless I remind you consistently that she's a psychopath.

She was getting married again, and that's when I knew she would be most vulnerable. She knew that too, but she had too many faces to show to people. Too much energy and control needed to be put into simply looking human.

She still had it covered pretty nicely, she made it so that under no circumstances would she be alone in a room with me. Always surrounded by people. But there had to be a way to get the job done.

I pretended to get drunk. Very drunk. I wasn't aloud to give a speech, because everyone knew I openly hated my sister. So I pretended to get drunk and while they were about to cut the cake. I grabbed the mike and made a speech, and scene.

“Sister! Sister! I loooove you! You. Hurp. Make me happy, when I know you are happy. You're happy right sis? This guy is a good guy? Looks like he loves you. I've bet you've told stories about me.”

I was hoping that she would do the cry thing. But she felt like on her special day, that it would be okay to treat me the way that she always wanted to.

“I'm going to KILL YOU!” and she came at me. Not with a knife or anything, it was just dramatic, probably going to use me as an excuse not to have sex with her new husband.

It was all I needed, I slipped the knife out of my pocket and she fell right on it.

Have you ever seen the life go out of a monster before? You can't see the change.

They pulled me off of her. And I got away with it. Six months later I was acquitted, drunken self-defence is still self-defence.

It's a good thing that none of the cops that night did a breathalyser test on me. I didn't have drop. To tell you the full truth. My plan was to just walk up to her and try to hug while while she did her great cry game. And stab her until she died.

The one time that she let go. I won.

I am in a hospital now though. Turns out I'm a bit of a sociopath. In fact, I might have been completely wrong about my sister this entire time, and I am simply severely disturbed. I might not have been honest before, when I said I saw nothing in my sister. I'm here to tell you right now. I see nothing in anyone.

I mean a psychopath and sociopath? What are our parents like? Oh right, my sister wasn't a psycho. Turns out.

I should have known. I should have known.

Turns out that when you look into somebodies eyes, and you see nothing there, and feel nothing but hate for them. Well, that's more your problem.

I should have known though.

All those years I looked at myself in the mirror.

I saw my sister.