My name is Jimmy, and I am nine.
My little sister is Randy.
That’s short for Miranda Willy, y’ know.
And we have a dog named Mandy.
Ma and Pop, they treat us good.
Give us lotsa toys and candy.
Dolls and books and trains and cars.
But none of that pleases lil’ Randy.
See, Randy screeches and Randy screams.
She ain’t a quiet soul.
She makes Ma cry and Pop yell.
And say things that begin with “bull…”
Randy, she’s spoilt, and she’s only five.
She won’t eat lest Pop shoves it down.
Ma, she says it’s just a phase.
Pop says we’re the talk of the town.
Me and Randy, we get along good.
Even though she always hurts me.
Once, I gave her me Teddy, and she smiled!
Then she went ahead and bit me.
One day I have to scream for Ma
Yell, “Ma, Randy’s eating the dog!”
Ma pulls lil’ Randy off Mandy’s neck.
She sees the teeth marks and begins to sob.
Pop and Ma take Randy to a man
In a white coat and a great big smile.
When they are done, the smile is gone.
Randy’s been screaming the entire while.
Two years later, and Randy is seven!
I buy her this great big bunny.
She rips out its eyes, and eats its insides.
Then she laughs and tells me it’s funny.
Randy, for fun, still likes to scream sometimes.
But now she mostly laughs.
It makes the kids run and the adults gasp.
No one seems to like Randy’s laugh.
Ma and Pop talk in the dark nowadays.
They talk ‘bout sending Randy away.
I tell Randy, warn her to be good.
She says it ain’t no fun to behave.
One morning I wake up and it’s quiet around.
It’s never quiet, not in our house.
So I walk down to where Randy sleeps.
Open the door as silent as a mouse.
Randy’s asitting in her bed.
Her pink bedspread all covered in blood.
Ma’s foots nearly the pillow, her head near on the floor.
And her body’s all covered in cuts.
Pop’s mouth is wide open in a frozen scream.
From where his face lay near the shelf.
His legs are strewn across the windowsill.
And I feel me wet myself.
Randy’s got two arms, one of Pop’s, one of Ma’s.
She chewin’ on fingers and grinning.
“Them good!” she giggles, teeth completely dyed red.
I fall to the floor, my head swimming.
“Come try some, Jimmy!” she says to me, laughing.
She holds a dead hand for me to try.
I know I should run, scream, cry, flee for help.
But I all I can do is say “Why?”
I don’t yell “What heck?” or keep wetting myself.
I don’t try to think of what my sister is.
Because I’ve known all along, Randy, she’s not just someone.
She’s special. Always was, always will, my lil’ sis.
She’s sad I’m not moving, and stands up on the floor.
Her slippers are soaked with yuck.
She moves ahead several steps, stops, tilts her head.
And in a deep, growling voice, says, “Come.”
I don’t come.
My name is Jimmy, and I am twelve.
My little sister is Satan for sure.
That’s all I can think as she bites out my throat.
And adds my body to the pile of gore.