My Dead Sister Novels & Stories

In a soft, delicate voice, she said, “Alpha Claude, you may not know this, but Claire and I are actually sisters. “What just happened was nothing more than a joke between sisters. This is simply the way we welcome her back.” As she spoke, she unconsciously edged her body closer to Claude. I let out a cold laugh. Rose was trying to recreate the past. Back then, at my banquet with Leon, she had done the same thing. She wore a dress that perfectly accentuated her figure, its color making her look fragile and pitiful. While I left Leon to handle banquet affairs, she seized the opportunity.

"I shredded the homework she worked so hard on, unleashed cockroaches and rats into the basement where she lived, and framed her for stealing... but they wouldn't listen to a single word she said. When your beloved sister was beaten until her mouth was full of blood, she kept crying out for them, yet they wouldn't stop. Even I felt a little sorry for her just listening to her!" Right after saying all that, he burst into laughter. "Do you know where your baby sister lived? In the basement! Their own flesh and blood lived in a damp, cold basement with no sunlight, while I lived in your old, spacious, well-lit bedroom. Her old room was converted into my walk-in closet ages ago. That's not all—"

"Ms. Mullen, an old lady is throwing a tantrum outside. She claims to be your mother and demands to see you. Should I let her in?" I took a slow sip of my wine, my expression remaining completely stoic. "My mother died when I was 18. Just kick her out." Since she had made her choice all those years ago, I was simply respecting her decision. I was smart enough now, and I had learned my lesson. I would never let her deceive me again.

I couldn't take my eyes off my dead sister's body as I was pulled away, I felt weak and disoriented, all the noise felt so distant. I killed someone, not just anyone… I killed Isadora, my elder sister. When the sleep came, I embraced it. Maybe this was all just one scary dream.

"You should know better than to try a man who will never see you as the person that you are. You cannot compare to a dead girl." The words hit like physical blows. I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but what could I say? She was right. I was chasing ghosts, trying to be someone I wasn't for a man who would never truly see me. But I liked that he was nice to me. That was comforting. Miyori's expression shifted, becoming businesslike again. "Speaking of dead girls... I hear you say your sister did not die by suicide. That she was... murdered." My spine straightened. "It's true."

"I'm sorry, Mei ... I'm sorry ..." I broke up with him. "D-Does that mean ... she's really gone?" full of my fearful question. He sighed and looked down. His jaw clenched repeatedly. Simultaneously with her nod were the fall of her tears. He wiped it harshly and looked away. So it's true. She's dead. I feel like I'm deaf. My cousin in, my best friend and my sister is dead. She was killed by my father. I was not silent and remained that way until a while passed.

Placed on the table. "Here, here your sister left this with us, and asked us to give it to you in case anything happened to her." I blinked in confusion , "My sister? Lily? In case something…what are you trying to say?" I asked, and entered a state of denial when his eyes grew solemn, his silence screaming the truth before his words ever could. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, miss. But your sister, Lily, is dead. She was murdered." "what?" I choked out, and suddenly my vision began to blur. The room tilted, and the sound of my heartbeat drowned out everything else.

I ask. “The woman in that picture is my sister. My parents adopted her when she was a baby, her name isn’t Lucy, it’s Maddie and she looks exactly like that woman,” he says. Putting his hand over his face, he suddenly looks at me, “How long ago has it been since this woman died?”; “Approximately a couple months, why?” I reply. “She’s been in a coma that amount of time. I wonder, if they are sisters, if there is a reason she went into a coma when her biological sister died?” he questions. “I don’t know but it does make sense or is worth wondering about,” I say.

My breath caught. My body froze. My heart hammered. “Who?” I whispered. The spine’s voice was calm. “Your sister.” My stomach dropped. My sister. Dead. Gone. Buried. Or so I thought. The words hit me like a knife. My mind flashed to the memory of her funeral. To the grief. To the pain. To the emptiness. And now Now the spine was telling me she was alive. Or at least Alive inside the system. Alive in the spine.

My very sister was wanted for a theft crime, and a ransom for whoever caught her. That explains why she had insisted about our relocation last week. Our time was ticking. My sister was dead and she left with a premature kid who couldn't survive for some time without an incubator. My father had passed out, and my admission was in three days. If the world hasn't turned against me then who has? June.19. 2018 The day I was in the middle of being deceased and alive. The day I wanted to reconsider my reason for existence.