"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" she said, as I thrashed in bed not knowing this this was a dream. "You were always so jealous of me, I could just tell. You were just always second. And you couldn't handle that, could you?"
No. I couldn't. I couldn't handle it. And that was what led me to do what I did. I just couldn't be second best.
And now, because of my jealousy, my envy, every time that I see my sisters face in my dreams, it all comes back to me. She was the favorite child. The one with straight A's, trophies, the one who succeeded in everything. And I just couldn't have that.
So now, every damn time that I see my little sisters face in my dreams, it reminds me that she's gone. That she's never coming back. And by the time that I finally got the sense to save her, it was too late.
The assassin made sure of that.
There ya go. I tried. This is my first time writing, so don't judge please.
YOU ARE READING
scary/sad short stories
Short Storyso basically this is my first time writing so if anybody has an tips then feel free to comment. :) this is basically going to be a book about, well, scary or sad short stories. bye, and enjoy.
