My Sister Was Broken, I’ll Burn Them

My twin sister was everything good in this world. Gentle, kind, and beloved by all. I, on the other hand, was born from a family's bad seed. When the entire world despised me and pushed me away, she was the only one who stood in front of me without hesitation, shielding me from every cruel word and hateful stare. When I was eighteen, a scumbag tried to force himself on her. I cut off his genitals and stuffed them into his mouth. That same night, my parents had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Even after they died, they refused to let me attend their funerals. In their eyes, I was a curse, a source of misfortune wherever I went. Only my sister never abandoned me. She visited regularly, telling me about her studies, her dreams, and eventually the man she fell in love with. After inheriting our parents' estate, she used her share to help her fiancé rebuild his failing career. Later, they married and had a beautiful son together. Every time she visited, she would smile and say, "Little sister, when you get out, you have to hold your nephew." Seven years later, I was finally declared recovered. The other patients gathered to see me off, making as much noise as if it were a festival. Even the head nurse, who had looked after me all those years, patted my head affectionately. "Go live a good life," she said. "And don't ever come back." But on the very day I was supposed to leave, my sister was admitted into my place. Betrayed by the husband and child she loved most, her mind had shattered completely. When I saw her again, she was little more than skin and bones. Her face was hollow, her eyes lifeless, and every breath seemed to cost her tremendous effort. As I looked at her broken state, the darkness I had buried deep inside myself for seven years stirred once more. No. It didn't stir. It erupted. I gently squeezed her hand. "Sis," I whispered, "you protected me for seven years." A smile slowly curved my lips. "Now it's my turn to protect you." ***** The Lewis family villa was brightly lit when I arrived. Laughter drifted through the windows. There wasn't the slightest trace of grief in the house, despite the fact that my sister had just been hospitalized with a severe mental breakdown. Ignoring the stammering steward who tried to stop me, I shoved him aside and kicked the front door open. The grand dining room came into view. My sister's husband and son were gathered around a woman in a purple dress. The three of them sat together, smiling and laughing like the perfect family. The woman looked up first. The moment she saw me, shock flashed across her face. But it disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a gentle, concerned smile. "Sarah, you're finally back," she said softly. "Carl and Billie have missed you terribly these past few days." The warmth on Carl's face vanished the second his eyes landed on me. His gaze turned icy. "Weren't you pretending to be mentally ill before?" he sneered. "What happened? Couldn't keep up the act for more than a month? I knew it. You were faking your breakdown from the beginning just to frame Marjorie." His reaction didn't surprise me. What I hadn't expected was the look on Billie's face. According to my sister, he had always been a sweet, well-behaved child. Yet now, as he stared at me, there was nothing but disgust in his eyes. "I hate you, Mom." His words landed like stones. "Why did you come back so early? Tonight is Aunt Marjorie's birthday. Dad and I finally got the chance to celebrate with her." His small face twisted with resentment. "You ruined everything." The malice radiating from the three people across from me was almost tangible. And to my own surprise, I felt excitement rising within me. A familiar excitement. Once I hadn't felt in years. Slowly, I walked to the dining table. Then, without warning, I flipped the entire thing over. Plates shattered. Wine spilled across the floor. The room fell silent. I smiled. "You've got it wrong." My gaze swept across the wreckage. "This is what ruining a candlelight dinner looks like." After a stunned moment, Carl shot to his feet. "Sarah!" he roared. "Have you lost your mind? If you're still sick, then get back to the psychiatric hospital where you belong!" Tilting my head, I looked at him innocently. "Your mistress is living in our home. You're having a romantic candlelight dinner with her in front of me." I paused, then continued, "And I'm supposed to stay calm?" For the first time, Carl was speechless. His face darkened. "What mistress?" His voice rose defensively, "I already explained that everything is a misunderstanding! You're paranoid. Delusional." He pointed at the woman beside him. "Apologize to Marjorie. Right now."