When she came down those stairs in that bloody dress, I knew something was wrong.
Her hands were covered in blood along with the front of the once blood dress.
Her green, once filled with life, eyes stared down the stairs at me.
Her breath came out quivering.
When she reached the bottom step, I watched her collpase to her knees.
It was not her blood that was spilt.
She had been the murderer, no doubt about that.
The mahogany wood now had blood on it, as she put her hands on it to get up.
That smile on her face.
I want to run.
But my legs won't move.
And she's my younger sister.
When I open my mouth to speak, no words come out.
It's like fear has completely taken me over.
Why am I on the floor now?
I can feel blood flowing from me.
I just...want to shut...my eyes...
But the weeping...
My sister?
Is she crying?
No...I doubt that...
Too tired to ask.
Sleep.
All I need is
sleep.
