Dear Lily,
I've figured it out. I'm jealous, so, so jealous of all that you have- your friends and your beauty and your school and your personality and your fire and your magic and your love and the attention you get from our parents- all that is yours and not mine, or really all that I can't have or achieve just because it's you. You've always been the better daughter, the better person, the better everything. And then you just had to go and be literally magical instead of just figuratively, making you that much better than I'll ever be. I can't control that, and that- that's what's so unfair about it, what kills me inside every moment of every hour of every single day.
And it's all because there's no reason for anyone to be jealous of me.
Love, your sister.
