Note: This story is unedited, and unfinished. Updates may be slow. Also, the story have trigger warning so read it if you're ready. You have been warned.
Date started: March 1, 2023
Date finished: --
Word count: --
SCORCHED
Prologue
Have you ever wished that you had never been born? Thinking, everything is better if you'd just disappear; become a cloud-shadow, or a dying ember in the middle of a storm.
Living always felt monotonous to me as people only see me as a shadow, a figure only visible when there's someone else in the spotlight; I'm just a reflection people don't see.
Ever since we were born, Kianna was always the bright child between us two. Both mother and father loved her as if she's their only daughter.
But, who wouldn't love my sister?
She was charismatic, pure, beaming with positivity. That's how everyone describes her as. To me, she's the best version of me-I can say that.
People around us adored her, loved her, cared for her.
I did too.
Have you ever loved someone to the point that you started to hate them?
I loved how she was perceived by the people around us, I wanted that. She was always praised, and everybody spoke fondly of her. I wanted that
So I thought, how could I become like my sister? How can I be Kianna Martin? And something clicked on my head. Why am I so lost in thinking of ways to become her when I could replace her?
July 18, 2017. I went into our back alley where she always passes through everytime she comes home late from school. I hid a small knife at the back of my pocket waiting patiently for her to come home, but she never did. Instead, we were all greeted by the news that she was at the hospital unconscious.
At first, my heart went ballistic. My hands started to shake when the news broke into my ear. Every word felt like ecstasy, and I was filled with jewels dancing brilliance in my stomach.
God answered my prayers and fate lent its palms wide to me. A third power had moved in order to spare my hands with blood, yet all of my excitement vanished when I saw his face.
Jason Miller?
Someone had taken my place and done my bidding.
No. This couldn't be. I was the one who meant to kill her, not you.
When I thought no one could ever outshines me again, I was rightfully reminded of how worthless I am.
I'm out donned by a man whose eyes never spoke a single shed of emotion? Somehow in that way he caught my attention, and for that, I applaud him for killing my sister for me. But personally, I wouldn't let that slide. But since he did me a favour, I will not kill him. Instead, I would make him suffer until I see a glimpse of emotion from those blank canvas of eyes of his. Just like what I see everytime I look in the mirror.
I want someone to feel what I feel, so I wouldn't be the only person in this world who feels this way.
