Younger Sister Stories Novels & Stories

No more worrying about who might be the killer. But all I felt was cold. --- At noon, I finally stood up. My legs were stiff, my back aching from sitting on the hard floor. I walked to the window and looked out at the campus. Students crossed the quad in groups, laughing, talking, holding hands. The lake glittered in the distance, blue and calm and innocent. The lake where my sister died. The lake where someone held her under until she stopped fighting. I pressed my palm to the glass. "I'm sorry, Alice," I whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't do this alone."

The older answered as she patted, the younger girl’s short brown hair. “What about papa?” Asked the younger. The older girl smiled, “He’ll be OK. We’ll take back what’s ours!” The older answered. “Right!” The younger smiled as she looked at her older sister’s blue eyes and brown hair just like hers. “Right, just like what we did last time, OK? You hide and support me while I attack.” The older told her sister as her eyes started to glow. “Wait!” The younger told her sister as she hugged her.

I was supposed to be the hopeless romantic marrying into high society, but my younger sister couldn't stop copying everything I did. When I tried on wedding dresses, she tried them on too. When I put on diamond rings, she wore them too. When I called Elliot my fiancé, she turned around and called him the same. Until one day, I overheard a conversation between her and Mom. "If your sister refuses to marry him, you can take her place. The position of Mrs. Fitzgerald shouldn't go to someone else." I smiled. After all, I had been lying to them, with zero intention of marrying Elliot. Trying on wedding dresses was just to make her jealous. Wearing diamond rings was to set the bait. Even havi

I sighed and sat down beside him. "Pancakes?" He asked pushing his plate towards me. I shook my head. "No thanks." He chewed on the food quickly and happily. "So what did you hear yesterday?" I asked. He gleamed like he had been waiting for this question all his life. He gulped down a drink beside him. "Well, they are sisters," he said. I nodded to urge him on. "They spent their time talking about memories and childhood," he said. "I was starting to get bored, then the shorter woman, her name is Liz, and she is the older one. She started talking about a bedtime story they used to hear when they were children."

The seventeen year old girl giggled from the backseat of the car where she was sitting with her younger sister. The young one followed her suit and giggled as well, despite not knowing what her sister was rambling about. But seeing the older girl making funny faces at the painting of a boy with bright blue eyes, she had a good guess, and almost rolled her eyes at her elder sister. The younger girl was sometimes too smart for her age and liked to think she was smarter than her sister, who was behaving like a child at the moment.

“Your father knew them. They used to be best of sisters, and they used to live with the isolation.” “See, they are not as dangerous as you make them seem.” Kaela didn’t let me finish. “You need to let me finish the story, sweetheart,” I corrected her. She shook her head and leaned back. “So, at some point, the elder sister became angry with the younger one. The younger one was so much prettier, better, was loved by her parents, and she had more opportunities.” “Does that mean the other sister was ugly?” Kaela asked.

Brutal looking men were turning into even more vicious looking wolves everywhere you looked. Nora was already gone, swallowed up and protected by her new pack. Cassie was determined to get to her sisters. They came into this world during a war, and she refused to lose them during another one.

Louella said, defensively. “She still could,” the witch said as she walked up to Louella and took her chin in her hand. “Did you know that your sister can speak to ghosts?” When Louella shook her head, she added, “Soon, your aunt’s ghost will find her way to your sister. By then, your aunt will have remembered all and your sister will be told.” “My sister is in an asylum for the insane. No one will believe her,” Louella said with confidence. “Now, will you please help me? I can pay. Anything you ask. It’s yours.”

she said tentatively, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “I had an older sister,” he said. His voice was dreamy and his eyes faraway. “Seven years older than me, kind of like you and David. Her name was Jennifer. My parents liked names that start with J. Jennifer and Jacob. Jenny and Jake. She had really beautiful long dark hair, you know. It went all the way down her back. She used to steal cookies from the kitchen and take them into her room and make a tent out of her comforter between her bed and the desk. Then she’d call me and I’d come in her room and we’d eat cookies in the fort and tell ghost stories. I didn’t know a lot of ghost stories, though, because I was little. But sh

But even before she reached the kitchen she met her younger sister. "What happened, Sis Yassi? Why are you crying?" Yesha asked her worriedly. "Because of my dreams. I woke up crying but I can't remember what tearful dream I had," she said to her sister. She went straight to the kitchen and took an ice pack then placed it over her eyes. "You're weird Sister for dreaming like that. This has never happened to me before," Yesha commented before leaving the kitchen. "You will never experience this, Yesha. Because you can't go inside a story and fall in love with the character of the protagonist in the story," she softly replied to her sister even though she was no longer in front of her.