Scary Reddit Stories

I Killed My Sister But She Won't Stay Dead

My sister and I never got along too well growing up. She had the most grating voice imaginable and she used it solely to annoy me. Like nails on a chalkboard, she'd screech her way into my brain, "Have you been to bora bora yet? Oh I don't suppose you have, you know with your job and everything. You just have to go. Me and the hubby went last week, but I'm sure it'd be just as fun by yourself. Or you could go and find yourself a man to take you if you ever went out and got some sun!"

She just goes on and on. How would she know what it's like to live my life? She got all the best part of our parents, our mother's beautiful complexion, our fathers piercing blue eyes.

Me? I was born to live a life of mediocrity and with a body to match it. My metabolism switched off at 16 so I've put on a few pounds since then. My muddy brown eyes and frizzy hair didn't do a lot to supplement my dour personality.

She had it all. How did she have the right to critique me?

All of this was fine until her divorce. She needed a place to stay so she basically invited herself to live with me through the whole process. If you think her divorce did anything to quell her incessant nagging and criticisms you'd be dead wrong. I think the stress actually made her worse. Every single day I was a prisoner in my own home. Everytime I left my room was a chance for her to sink her fangs into me and talk my ear off about some inane bullshit. This went on for weeks and weeks through her messy divorce.

One particular night she had a few too many glasses of wine and she started on one of her epic, multi-hour rants. I wasn't just going to sit there anymore and be her therapist so I stood up and walked off into my bedroom. But then she followed me.

"How dare you just walk off when I'm talking to you! Is that any way to treat your own sister? What would mom say?"

I couldn't take anymore. So I killed her.

I got up off the bed, grabbed a lamp and beat her death.

It was the first time in many, many years I had felt that good. Ironically, straddled over her unrecognizable corpse, I decided I would turn my life around. So I washed my hands of the gore, threw the body out under the porch, and went to bed.

The next day after work I went to the gym and ran my ass off. I felt so light and free knowing I would head home without that nagging bitch there to ruin my night.

Except when I got home she was there. In the same damn outfit on my couch sipping her fancy wine. "Oh thank god you're back. You just won't believe what my ex-husband said today at court.", she said giving me the once over, "Oh god, what happened to you. You look terrible!"

I couldn't understand what was happening, but I had already decided I wasn't going to put up with this anymore. So I killed her again. This time with a kitchen knife.

I leapt over the couch, blade in hand, and made her insides her outsides. I cleaned the knife before taking her body out to the porch, but when I got there I couldn't believe my eyes. Her body was still lying there on the dirt. I didn't know what to think. I just tossed her fresh body on top of the old one and went back inside.

Every day I came home it was the same thing. Little things changed like where she was sitting or how I killed her, but every single day after the gym I'd come home and she was still there. By the end of the month I had a pile of corpses under the porch so high it was spilling out into the yard.

Meanwhile. no matter what I did at the gym I never got any healthier. I couldn't drop the weight. No matter how long and hard I ran I didn't drop a single pound, but none of that mattered to me when I met Nick.

I met Nick at the gym one evening on my way out and we hit off. We went downtown, had some drinks and he said he'd call me soon so we could hang out again. I was completely smitten with him. It had been so long since a guy had even so much as talked to me.

But Nick never called. I waited and waited, and it became increasingly clear that he had stood me up. I skipped work and waited outside the gym all day for him to show up. Finally, around 7pm he came out, tired and sweaty from his usual routine. I jumped out of my car and ran over to him. He noticed me and I waved, but he just seemed to ignore me and walk over to his car.

I wasn't going to just stop there. He had to give me an answer for all the missed calls and the hours I had waited on him. I caught up to him, but he didn't even look me in the eye.

"Jeez, can't you take a hint? I'm just not that into you. I'm sorr-" He said, but I didn't let him finish.

I jammed my nail file into his eyes. He barely had time to scream and then I bashed his brains out onto the pavement.

God that felt good.

I got back in my car and headed home. Guess I won't be going back to that gym any time soon.

When I walked in the door my sister was waiting for me, "Hahaha, how could you think he'd be into you? How could you think anyone would be into someone like you?" she cackled. I ran bloodlusted at her, but tonight she fought back. It didn't matter for her though. For once, I was thankful for my heavier build and weight

Once she lay lifelessly, I didn't even bother to throw her body out. It wouldn't have fit under the porch anyways. I crawled into bed and was nearly asleep when there was a knock on the door. "Open up, San Francisco Police Department. We have some questions for about the disappearance of your sister, Mrs. Sinclair."

I crawled out of bed and made my way to the door. I stepped over her body and the blood pooling on the floor. I'm not worried. I don't have anything to hide.

As soon as I opened the door, they were on me. I was handcuffed and arrested on the spot. Apparently someone had seen the vicious display outside of the gym and they had found my sister's body underneath my porch, now many weeks old and rotted beyond recognition.

I didn't even care at this point. I admitted to all of it, and they sentenced me to life without parole. At least I'll never have to see my sister's snobby face again I thought.

I was placed in solitary since I was deemed to dangerous and unstable for gen pop, but when I walked in my cell there she sat against the padded walls, familiar wine glass still in hand.

She laughed and laughed as I beat her with my fists. I beat her till my hands turned black and blue, but she never stopped laughing. I was stuck here with her. Forever.