I never realized my sister was a vampire until she gazed at me with those crimson eyes, brimming with lies and excuses, and the fake teeth she wore when she laughed. (Except that, with me, she lacked fangs,
as she was too absorbed in siphoning the energy and empathy from my mother,
my father, and my other sister, leaving them pale and depleted.)
I never realised she was a black hole, drawing in the souls of others along with her own.
I never grasped the ceaseless cycle of taking without giving that defined her,
all because she hungered for blood.
Her craving was for her husband's,
a wolf's blood,
and it poisoned her and all of us.
