Bad Blood — Cadence Denton

My vision fractured into shards of light. Stars joined the little birds as Janie slammed my head onto the floor several times. Stunned, I felt her climb off me, kneeing me in the stomach in the process.
“You know what I wish, little sister?”
“That I'd die?” My voice sounded sulky in my own ears.
She snorted, her lips curved into a sneer. “Nothing quite so simple. No, I wish you were an Amber Alert. That someone would kidnap you and you'd disappear.” She snapped her fingers open wide like a magician completing a trick. “Now, that would turn my frown upside down.”
I gaped at her, unable to speak as her words rolled over me in a tidal wave of hatred. I'd never truly understood the depth of her loathing. It was the knockout punch that left no outward mark.
The room was still. The entire house was quiet, as though the violence of her words had made it catch its breath.
The silence was broken by a woman's scream of terror. My mother's, I later learned. It was the first scream. It wouldn't be the last.
I didn't know it at the time, but neither did I know Janie's wish would come true.
Julie McIntyre