In the middle of the school year you realise that time flies faster than you think. My sister, Amy, always tutors me with my homework. She’s a sophomore in high school and in the math club. My parents are not happy with my failing Algebra grade. Ironically my sister is the one I rely on.
It was a weird Sunday night. The sun left us earlier than usual. My sister was showing up in the middle of the night, later than usual. I always wake up and look at my clock, 1:23 am, listening to the failed attempts at quietly dodging all the squeaky steps leading to my room. This time she isn’t going up the steps, she going down. The second floor consists of my room, my sister’s room, my parents room, 2 bathrooms, and an empty room.
My sister starts to retreat back to the second floor. My door is opened just a little. She’s holding a knife. I can see her eye staring back at mine. The knife is reflective from the light coming from the TV in my parents living room. She slams my door shut and rapidly runs down the stairs. I bolt to my parents room where the phone is. My mother and my father, berried in a blanket of blood. Why did she do it, why not me. A dark figure is standing in the corner. I can’t run away. My sister is blocking the doorway.
I Hate foster care.