Novel & Cerita Younger Sister Stories

And that's Bullshit! Simple living is even better but fun. We are under the same roof, but we are not meeting in the big house they built for our family. I had a ten-year-old younger sister. Her name was Karen. I feel sorry for her, because like I was looking she also needs the care of a whole and happy family.

“Sydney. He’s older by a few minutes. You can only imagine how we used to butt heads when we were young.” I scan his face, unable to read the emotions playing behind his eyes. “We have a younger sister, Misty. She’s turning twenty in a few months. I know what it’s like to have a little sister, especially one like Shosanna. Misty and Shosanna aren’t that different. I get it, okay? That feeling like you’re not in control? I understand.” I stare at him. He stares at me with the same intensity. “You don’t know me,” I whisper.

I wasn't the kind of person who could just toss someone's possessions carelessly, not even my sister's, not even after what she'd done. "Some poor charity shop worker is going to have a heart attack when they open these boxes," Maya joked, holding up a barely-there piece of lingerie. I laughed, though it felt strange to be touching my sister's intimate things. "I'm sure they've seen worse." "Doubt it." She dangled a lacy scrap of fabric. We continued working, making steady progress through the massive closet. When I reached the back corner shelf, my fingers brushed against something solid tucked behind a stack of cashmere sweaters. I pulled it out, surprised to find a leather-bound book.

As if everything that had already happened wasn’t enough I had to gave him again at the celebratory buffet and I couldn’t decline the invite because it was my sister…. The next event was even bigger than the engagement party. A celebratory buffet my sister insisted on hosting, something about “bringing both families together properly.” It was elegant, controlled, perfect. Just like her. And somehow… I was there again. Dressed up, smiling when necessary, pretending everything was fine. Pretending I wasn’t falling apart inside, but I kept my distance this time.

On the verge of a breakdown, I cried out, "She almost killed me, Mom! She took all my money and ran off with the guy who sexually assaulted her! But even after all that, you still think I'm to blame for everything?" Mom snapped back impatiently, "Don't make it sound so bad. It's not like you have that much money anyway. Besides, you're the older sister. Isn't it perfectly reasonable for you to give your younger sister some money? "Since you're perfectly fine now, stop being so petty. Amy is so much more mature than you. She knows what she's doing, so stop talking about it in such a terrible way—all that nonsense about assault." I lost all hope then. I no longer expected anything from Mom.

I asked. Bianna chewed her popcorn. “I heard.” “That’s concerning.” “Their preschool is expensive. At minimum, they should come home with vocabulary.” On the TV, a woman on a reality show was crying because her fiancé had liked his ex’s photo. “Mommy!” Max yelled from the floor. “She’s crushing my lungs!” “Good. Maybe the oxygen you have left can be used to think before provoking your sister.” “I’m the older one too!” “You were born two minutes earlier and you use that fact like a stock certificate.”

"You don't have to sign. But think about your best friend. She's staying at the McKinzie nursing home, remember?" Lynn Dole—my first real friend in this world. A year ago, she'd rented an apartment full of toxic chemicals without knowing it. Now she had leukemia. We hadn't found a matching donor for her yet. The nursing home was the only thing keeping her alive. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Jennifer." His voice was soft. The threat underneath it wasn't. My hands were shaking as I picked up the pen and signed. Not because I agreed, but because none of this mattered anymore.

Go fix her right now! "Otherwise, don't blame me for not recognizing you as my brother!" It had been less than thirty minutes, yet Charlotte already knew. Other than Liam, I couldn't think of anyone else who would have told her. As for this sister of mine–ever since she kicked me in the chest for Liam, I had already given up on her. My voice turned cold. "I should be the one saying I don't have a heartless sister like you." Ignoring the shock on her face, I kicked her out the door.

That was the social climb she had sought, even if it meant burning me alive, the 'perfect man' she had convinced herself she needed. "Let's get her into isolation and call in another doctor," I said to the nurse, my voice betraying none of my turmoil. However, then, Silvia clutched at my wrist, her once immaculate nails then broken and bare. "No, you're my sister. You have to cure me!" I let out a harsh laugh and shook off her grip. "And who do you think you are?" "I'm your sister! You have to save me! I don't trust anyone else!" Her eyes were wild, almost monstrous.