I stare at the scene in front of me. The majestic black waters of the ocean beat ruthlessly against the beautiful white sands. The night sky is blacker than a raven and I can't see the stars anymore, it's almost as if they never existed, though my mind fights those thoughts. My sister is the imaginative one. I’m the logical one.
I shiver, the freezing rain pounding my exposed skin. I wear only a tank top and shorts and my skin is a mixture of red and pink, but it will be gone by morning.
I take a slow step forward, the pebbles and the sand crackling under my feet. I can barely hear myself think as the wind screams past me, the waves roaring.
I take another step. It takes all I have not to run back to my daddy's house. But no, I can't, not yet. I glance back, smiling at the girl behind me. She is beautiful, with pale, almost sickly white, skin and long, curly, black hair, tangled from the wind and sand. I run my thumb over her hand, sisterly love bonding me to her.
We finally make it to the edge of the water. The salty stench mixed with rotting fish is disgusting, yet part me likes the smell. The ocean pools around my ankles before retreating back.
I look back again; she is lying on the ground with her beautiful eyes shut. I wish I could see them, but she teases me, her eyes firmly closed. I help her to her feet and put a freezing, limp arm around my neck, supporting her entire weight.
I smile down at the small four year old. I can't remember when she was brought home, I was only two. But she has always been their favorite, never me. But if I'm being honest, she is my favorite too.
I put my lips against her cold forehead and whisper, "I love you, but it needed to be done."
And then I let go of her arm, letting her fall into the ocean.
The dark water turns darker, red streaming from her hair. I wait until I see her bob below the water, her body finally disappearing. I smile and turn, beginning the walk back to my house. Mommy said she would make eggs and bacon in the morning.
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