Sister Feet Story Novels & Stories

They packed the items I got, and Zander didn't even bat an eyelid at the ridiculous price. I went into a few more stores before deciding to call it a day. We walked out of the mall with our arms full of shopping bags, and I half expected Zander to be annoyed because, boy, did I splurge, if I do say so myself. Instead, he looked amused. We got into the car, and I realized how tired I was. I yawned, removing my shoes. My feet were killing me. Zander started driving without his horrible music, and I was so thankful for the silence.

"You think this pathetic little trick will get my dad's attention? You think he's going to chase after you and beg you to come back like in some stupid movie? You're utterly pathetic." I said nothing. I just silently knelt down to pick up my scattered belongings. Among them, a pale blue cashmere sweater lay quietly on the rug. It was the one my sister, Seraphina, had knitted for Luca with her own hands before she died. She had spent three whole months on it, stitch by stitch. "When Luca gets a little older, he's going to love this sweater," she had once told me. He had never worn it in all these years. I thought he didn't care about it, and since my sister had left so few things behind, I de

"Noelle is your sister. It's only right that she helps you. You don't need to thank her." "Thank you, Jensen. Without you, I really don't know what I'd do…" Brooke buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed harder, and watching them only filled me with despair. Even though Brooke and I were biological sisters, I had grown up in the countryside with our grandparents. She, on the other hand, had stayed with our parents, growing up alongside Jensen like childhood sweethearts. Later, I was brought back to live with our parents and eventually started dating Jensen. Brooke became his personal assistant after she graduated from college.

My younger sister, Halsey, greets me. “Hey, what’s up with the big smile so early in the morning?” I ask while drying my shoes on the doormat. “You, wanna know?” She asks with surprised eyes. “Yeah. I mean, why not?” I ask, looking at her with a confused expression. She glares back at me as if not knowing what to say. “I’ll tell you later.” She answers as she walks away. I roll my eyes and scoff as I watch her make her way upstairs. I follow behind and head to the bathroom.

Even after a decade, we still did not know our neighbours first names and only entered their houses when necessary, which never happened. "Good afternoon," I say making sure to stand a few feet away so the leaves won't land on me. He stops shearing and smiles at me and says a good afternoon, there are wrinkles around his eyes and his hands are heavily veined. "My sister Lucinda died. I just thought that you should know." I can't recognize my voice, is it pain that makes my voice strained?

As he returned to work, I brought him a glass of water, when he just happened to reach out. We touched each other, but he withdrew his hand first and pretended like nothing happened. "Your sister won't survive." There was no doubt about it—anyone who could be objective would be able to see that there was no hope for my sister. Even with that mysterious spell that kept her alive despite losing almost all of her blood, it was just pointless. Two weeks later, the cops found her dried-up corpse in the middle of the street, every last drop of fluid drained out of her body.

Cassie trudged up the hill with her sisters, the massive packhouse looming before them. The three of them weren’t particularly tall, but they were strong. With thick auburn hair and hazel eyes. Their faces, arms and legs were largely covered in freckles. A gift from so many days spent out in the sun with the rest of the pack. The sun was fading now, as they walked through the main room and up the stairs to their families’ wing of the house. They shared a kind of suite, with three bedrooms branching off of a small sitting room. The large bathroom could accommodate all of them, but there always seemed to be a fight over its use.

Two legs walked by me and by the shape of it and the shoes, I could tell it was my Mother's. Snapping my eyes shut to push out the pain, I stretched out my hand to try to push myself back up when I felt pain shoot through my hand. I peered my eyes open to see my sister's six inches heel stepping my hand while she twisted her foot with a sinister look on her face. "Ah... Please..." I pleaded as more tears fell from my eyes. "Oops." She said with a fake voice followed by a giggle before she, gratefully and thankfully, stepped away from me.

Full of bath steam and little footprints. Bianna came into the kitchen behind me and picked a grape from the bowl on the island. “They were so happy, though.” I stared at the glass wall behind the sink. The yard was getting darker now. The little lake behind the house sat still as ever, like the world hadn’t just tried to stab me with a coincidence sharpened to surgical precision. “Yeah,” I said. “And, by the way...” Bianna tossed the grape into her mouth, far too casual. “Your sister’s fiancé looks like the twins.”

She is my younger sister. She walked out of my room forth and back each time with a jar of water in her hand. I couldn't bear my body being drenched again as I tried to stand on my feet I fell down on the floored ground. My heavy body being stuck on the floor. The racing of my heart ringing in my ear, I suddenly felt her heavy feet finding their ways at my back. Each time I tried to not to moan she always pressed her foot against me with such a great pressure.