The Psycho Sisters

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Chapter 2: My Sister.

“I’ll always watch you, sis.”


Wait, what? I have a sister?

Am I dreaming? Someone to share my pain with? Someone to be with, so I’m not alone? Someone I could depend on, and a reason to live? Nevertheless, in all due honesty. I don’t, and let me repeat myself.

I don’t want her to go through the things that I have to go through. It’s not worth it, even if she’s a child just like I. Even so, I couldn’t help but think. “Once you’re in here, you’ll never escape.”

Those words danced around in my head, a guard told me that while smiling at me. I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t fall for his smile.

I came here a year ago, and things haven’t been pretty. Scrap that, things have NEVER been pretty around here. Ever!

If you only cared enough, to take a look at my arms and legs.

I cringed and jumped, as I heard an ear-piercing scream. “Who?” Had slipped out from my mouth by accident, I had no time to react as he chuckled once again. My mother would just glare at me. “Bad girl, I thought we had taught you some manners?” The woman I am supposed to look up to as my role-model, the one who I am supposed to call 'mother'.

My head snapped to my left as my cheek was red.

I had to bite my lip, to keep myself from crying.

I was only human, no? However, in front of them they treated me like I was an animal.

“Pathetic little bitch.” I heard my mother say, with a snarl. I took a deep breath fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill. “I apologise! I’m sorry!” I shouted out as from the corner of my eyes, I can see my parents grinning. I took a deep breath as I rubbed my cheek with my right hand.

Massaging basically.

“May I know, my sister’s name please?” I asked, my father (instead of my mother) this time politely. As I was frightened, frightened of him getting out of that armchair of his and hit me. Instead of it happening, I heard a loud snicker from my mother and a chuckle from my father. My mother spoke first.

“Ahh, yes you may. Yes, you may know. She was born in Europe. Her name is Mieke, meaning ‘beloved’, but she isn’t ‘loved’ much now? Is she?” And with saying that. My cruel mother threw her head back and laughed. As she laughed, father spoke.

“So instead. She is named Mika, in a way. The girl has two names.” I felt sad, sad for the fact I couldn’t help her right now at this moment.

As for I can only guess, that the scream that came from upstairs, was from her.

Hang on Mika, hang on sis. Just hang on a little longer.

Before I was brought away back to my cell, my father spoke out suddenly.

“She’s your age, perhaps a little younger.”

I looked back, over my shoulder as he said that. Why must the world be so cruel? “Only if you become cruel in return, the pain will stop.” A beastly voice, whispered as it’s words would dance around in my head. A smirk was plastered on father’s face. One thing I don’t understand, they are my parents.

The thing is, well, for me. How come I don’t look like one of them? Father has short, black, spiky ruffled hair. Which is, at one side combed back. He has hazel eyes and a pointy nose where mother has long curly auburn hair, small green eyes and pale lips.
My arm was yanked as I gave a cry of pain.

I felt nails penetrating my skin, as the Butler yelled at me. “Move your lazy ass! You worthless, useless, ungrateful brat!” I walked quicker, a tear or two traveling it’s way down my cheek.


Meanwhile at the cell’s upstairs.


I laid... Wait, scrap that. I laid on the cold hard floor, with only a thin blanket providing me enough warmth to survive. I stared at the blood that was trailing down my arm, dripping onto the floor as the word MONSTER was carved into my arm. I was beaten, beaten to death almost, before that I was sold.

Or taken away from some sort of place that sold kid’s my age, some older, some younger. Before that I was staying with a very old, yet young-looking lady. She was kind to me, was patient with me when I made a mistake or five. She told me to not listen to those who were rude, mean, and cruel to me. She told me, to never listen to them.

Before that, I was living with a man I had to call master (for some reason), if I didn’t do what I was told, or if I did something wrong in his eyes, he’d beat me. And torture me like I was some sort of an torturing doll. I cried; I cry. I’m probably the definition of a crying mess. Aren’t I?

They said “Welcome home, honey.” when I was brought into this house. The moment I smiled at the welcome, they hit me, beat me to death and back. For no reason, oh wait. Apparently the reason was, I smiled.

Is smiling such a crime? Is it such a bad thing to do? I don’t know. I’m starting to feel lonely. Again, no one my age wants to play with me or even talk to me. If I try to talk to them, they’d run away screaming monster. What did I do? For me that’ll remain a question it’s answer unknown forever. I’m shivering.

I try my hardest, to not make a sound. Because, if I do. The guard is gonna be mean to me...

The door to my cell opens, as the same man who brought me here shoves a kid, (perhaps a girl) my age in. She stumbles as she falls down onto the ground. The man kicks her harshly in her back as on his face is a scowl. “Quiet you little shit!” I kept quiet, hiding my tiny, skinny, little self under the thin blanket.

When the door is closed, locked and bolted. Five second’s of silence later, the blanket is pulled off of me. “Hey!” I whisper-yelled, probably looking like an idiot with my tangled, and messy dark-brown curls that are covering my face. She merely grinned. “Cutie!” And with that I growl. “Oh shut up!”

She sticks her tongue out at me as I stick mine out at her, after a second or two, we both burst out into a fit of giggles. “What’s your name?” She asks me. She has shoulder length gold-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Well...” I started off, in a whisper. “Hey I’m only joking! I kinda already know your name, ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’ told me.”

She said, as she looked at me, either it’s me or her, but I do believe I saw a twinge of sadness in her eyes. All I said was a faint ‘oh’. “Well then you’ll have to tell me your name.” I said, sarcastically, rolling my eyes in the process. She grins happily at that. “Nice to know you’re at least alive and not dead! And for your information! I’m called Cat, and I’m fab!”

With that we both burst out into a fit of giggles, before having to shriek at the sounds of someone banging on our door. A male voice screamed. “Shut the fuck up and get to bed! NOW!”

We hurriedly ran, well Cat runs, as I walk still heavily injured to our beds. Before we fall asleep under the thin blanket we mouthed “Goodnight.. Cat/Mika.. Friends?” to each other. Only a nod and a smile confirmed our friendship.

Hah! It seems I do have a friend, after all in this hellhole. With that I fall asleep.


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