Young Sheldon Sister

After Dad went bankrupt, Mom immediately started fighting for a divorce. I did not fight or argue, just watched coldly as my sister, Jessica Shaw, shoved me aside and threw herself at Dad. She cried out, "Dad, don't be sad! I'll stay with you!" In my past life, after our parents divorced, Jessica went with our wealthy Mom while I ended up with bankrupt Dad. However, what no one expected was that Mom's remarriage turned into a disaster when she married a scumbag who not only drained her assets but left her with nothing in the divorce. Jessica suffered right along with her. Meanwhile, Dad made a comeback and became wildly successful, eventually turning into a wealthy tycoon. Jessica grew bitter seeing me live well. Under the guise of catching up, she orchestrated a car accident that killed me. When I opened my eyes again, we had both traveled back to the day our parents filed a divorce. This time, Jessica shot me a smug smile and declared first, "I love Dad, so I want to stay with him." Little did she know, I could not have been happier with this arrangement. After all, I refused to spend another lifetime hiding and scraping by.

Herbie was subconsciously self-sabotaging his relationship with every famous, beautiful, successful girl he's been with. When the relationship seemed to be going well, he'd find one little detail that would be enough reason to break-up. It could be that she's too clingy or too busy, to the trivial ones like having long fingernails or having eyes that are too big or too small. That's because in that tiny little space in his heart he kept a secret. He's got this huge crush on his next-door neighbor for what seems like forever. For ten years they were neighbors, for ten years he was content just stealing glances. Not that he didn't know her. She's his ex-girlfriend's sister! On their tenth year as neighbors, he got elected as President and CEO of a multinational corporation at only 36 years old. He didn't want to move apartments but duty called.

My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse. She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen. I told her to end it. Safer that way. She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?" Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan." I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away." I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten. Willa? She got crowned a saint. Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale. Then I woke up. Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby. This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."

My favorite doll company just dropped a limited-edition ball-jointed doll, and I was ten thousand dollars short on the deposit. So, I whipped out my phone and tapped on my chat with my older brother, Damien. [Hey, Damien! Quick, I need ten thousand dollars to welcome the newest member of our family! Xoxo] Ten minutes later, my phone finally buzzed. I checked it with a massive grin on my face, but my usually doting brother’s reply was out of character. [You’re way too young to be a homewrecker. Just wait until I get you. You’re going to get what's coming to you.] I was confused. I was just starting to wonder if Damien’s account had been hacked when a furious pounding rattled my front door. As soon as I opened the door, a strange woman barged in and slapped me across the face. “You’re the one who clings to my boyfriend and begs him for money, aren’t you? Oh, you want thirty thousand dollars? How about I buy you a cemetery plot instead? How about I throw a whole funeral for you?" I held my burning cheek, unable to believe what was happening. So, this was my brother’s girlfriend? Well, congratulations. You just threw away any chance of ever marrying into the Fischer family.

My brother Mitchell sided with his dream girl when she accused me of bullying her. Despite being the only family member I had left, he exploded in anger and sent me away to a boarding school for so-called reformation to learn how to become a meek and obedient little sister. In time, I became exactly what he wanted—a docile sibling who never fought back, never argued. But everything changed the day he saw my medical report. He lost his mind. "Nora, I'm begging you—forgive me and let me be your brother again!"

As the youngest daughter of the Costellos, I had always lived in my sister’s shadow. That was until five years ago, when she betrayed the family and ran off with a street thug. I took her place and completed the wedding with Elio Ross. Over the years, he loved and indulged me, but we never got a marriage license. He always said family matters kept him busy, and that, with or without it, I was his wife in his and the family’s eyes. I believed him. Until today… I watched as Elio walked out of the church with my sister Alyssa, who had been missing for five years, both of them wearing the family rings that symbolized their union. At the church entrance, three black SUVs opened their doors simultaneously, and my three brothers stepped out in tailored suits. “The ceremony’s done? We’ve already booked Antonio’s to celebrate Alyssa’s return.” They climbed into the cars, expressing their joy, while no one noticed my pale, shattered face across the street. Later that night, under the guise of apology, my sister let a venomous spider bite me. “A substitute is always a substitute. Now that I’m back, it’s time for you to die.” I screamed for help. However, my husband and my three brothers only rushed to hold my sister, who had pretended she had fallen, without a glance at me, writhing from the poison. They called in every specialist from the hospital, only to tend to my sister’s scraped knee. That was the moment my heart truly broke. After being dragged back from death’s door by the doctors, I made my decision. I picked up the phone and called the International Private Island Exchange. “That isolated, uninhabited island… I’ll take it.”