I Dare You To Read This Book.

Dear Sister.

u/ozihel1d
I work part time as a janitor at a funeral home. It's a small place and not overly nice, but enough to hold something small for those who lacked in relatives or friends. The other day, after the final service, I picked up a small envelope on the ground. It was simply titled, "Sister". I stuffed it into my pocket, curiosity getting the better of me, but as the night went on I slowly forgot about it. Today, as I went to do laundry, the note slipped out and onto the ground. I decided that as my clothes washed, there'd be no harm in reading it. These are the contents.

Dear sister, my beloved one and only. Eliza. My entire world, universe. The one whose smile could make the sun shine on a gloomy day, whose laugh matched that of a Goddess. Loved by all who laid eyes on you, and cherished by those who know you.
I hate you with every bit of my soul. You spark a rage in me like no other.
You were always the prettier twin. Though our looks were identical down to the specks of brown in our blue eyes, everyone knew you were the most attractive. Why was that? Maybe it was the way you smiled shyly at a compliment, your cheeks dusting a nice rosy color. Maybe it was the way you giggled at the smallest of things, light and cheery. The clothes you dressed in, cute and befitting for your shy yet lovable nature.
I was shy too. But I put myself out differently. I isolated myself, deathly afraid of interaction and judgement. And yet, because of that, I was judged the most. You became the more favorable daughter. Though I stayed in my room and studied to achieve good grades to make our parents proud, excelled in various talents to try to win them over, it was always you. You, who got below average grades, and couldn't do a single thing for yourself. Helpless. But because you were adored, because of that sunshine personality of yours, everyone overlooked it.
Mother and Father lavished you in clothing and gifts the first time you accomplished to get a C on your English paper. They hung the essay on the fridge, and you beamed, hands on your hips, a determined look on your face. Like you'd just won the world. And I guess, in a way, you did. I was never rewarded for my straight A+'s, I never received any kind of congratulations. No clothes, no shoes, no handheld games. I didn't get a cell phone on our sixteenth birthday like you did, I didn't get a big party. It was your day. What I got was a pat on the back and a "work harder" from our Father.
It wasn't always like this. Together, when we were younger, I adored you just as everyone else did. I was aboard the Eliza train, I worshiped you along side our parents and those around us. As I grew older, though, I noticed everyone slowly slipping out of my grasp. Our friends turned into just your friends, our family turned into just your family. You took everything away from me. If you weren't here, I'd be the perfect daughter, the one that everyone loved.
I thought it would be okay for a while. I was upset and envious, but I didn't hate you. Because you were the only one who stayed by me through all these years. My sister, inseparable from me.
At least, I thought that was the case. I guess your popularity deluded your brain into thinking I wasn't there anymore, either.
I wonder, do you know how lonely life is? Everyday I watched you and the people surrounding you. You've always had this charm when you spoke, grace with each step you took. Never alone, always having someone to lean on when you needed it the most, and even when you didn't. You didn't leave me a single friend, and our parents pretended I didn't exist. When they spoke to friends at gatherings, I was never mentioned for my outstanding academics or musically inclined talent. They didn't even mention my name. No one's said my name in so long, I don't remember it. But I sure know yours. Dear, dear Eliza. I must have heard your name twenty times a day, it's drilled into my head.
I thought, it must be lovely to be Eliza. To have friends to hang out with, to be able to kiss the boy you like and to have him return the feeling. To get showered in gifts from friends and family at random, to never be alone. It must be divine. I sometimes wished I was you. I'd stare in my mirror for hours, mimicking your movements, your smile, expression, voice. Sometimes I tricked myself into believing that I actually was you.
But it was never enough. I craved more, I needed more. I wanted attention. I just wanted to be loved, I couldn't stand this overwhelming sense of loneliness. But no matter what, no one could see how deeply I was hurting. Not even you, and the last bit of faith I had in our sisterly relationship completely diminished.
I knew what I had to do. If you couldn't let me have what I wanted, then I needed to get rid of you. Kill you. And then everyone would be mine, they'd have no choice but to pay attention to me.
I wondered how I could do it. Poison? But someone would be suspected of murder, and there was no way that someone as perfect as you would overdose. Too risky. You had no reason to commit suicide, so that wouldn't do as well. It would have to be an accidental death, one that no one could be blamed for.
I bet, if the dead could retain their memories, that you would never forget this moment. I wonder, did you know that it was me who pushed you at first? Or was it a surprise when you turned and saw my face. Down the stairs you flew, eyes wide and staring in disbelief as your head collided with the cold, unforgiving ground. I only had one chance, I pushed as hard as I could. I risked it knowing that you could very well still be alive.
But I had luck in that moment, and you, none.
It was almost as if I watched my own death. Staring down at you as your life vanished into thin air, your eyes filled with shock and mouth opened to catch flies. The red liquid slowly seeping out of the head trauma, thick ribbons of it flowing across the floor and matting your dark brown hair. We had the same features, no doubt. As if I was staring at my own dead body.
And that's when it happened. It clicked in my mind, and I wondered how I didn't come up with it before. It wasn't you who had fallen down the stairs and died. It was me. I spent hours everyday pretending to be you, the perfect one. And I got it. I knew you so well, dear sister, that I could easily swipe your place in this world. With your eyes still staring at the ceiling, I fled into your room. No, my room.
I rummaged through your clothes, and wore them. I curled the ends of my hair slightly, like you enjoyed to do often. I applied your makeup, running your lip gloss along my own lips, and then I stared. There was no difference between us now.
I made sure to prep you carefully before calling for help. I removed the makeup from your cold face delicately, and the blood tangled your hair so badly that you couldn't tell that it had been curled. I'm thankful that you chose to wear casual clothing at that moment. I prepped myself, forcing a cry. I called for Mother and Father, and they ran in to find me sobbing over your body. The rest is history.
You must be wondering why I wrote this letter to you, who is already dead and being prepared for the funeral. Because, dear sister, I need to confess my sins somewhere. I will slip this paper into your coffin. You will be buried deep into the ground, never to come up. I will never be caught. All my secrets contained in the letter, they will be buried with you. I assure you, though, no one will attend your funeral. Only our parents and I. That's what you deserve.
Oh, but listen! I have tons of friends now, it's amazing. Everyone talks with me so naturally, they don't suspect a thing. I even have a boyfriend, he treats me so sweetly. He doesn't have the slightest clue that it's not you. Mother and Father treat me considerable amounts of attention, and spend even more money on me now that I can keep my grades up in school. They were shocked when they knew I could play the piano. It's almost as if no one has mourned your death. Could you blame them? Being someone so undesirable as yourself.
I am happy as Eliza! I'm never alone! I hope you can find happiness for me, dear sister. Truly, I have found heaven. I wonder if you have to? Hopefully not.
I want you to burn.