Crack.
Sizzle.
Pop.
Lori tossed the eggshell at the trashcan; it missed and landed on the floor. Normally she would walk over, pick it up, and throw it away, but today she didn't care; she barely cared enough to roll out of bed. As far as she was concerned, the fucking shell could stay.
Standing at the stove in a blue, threadbare bathrobe, her blonde hair frizzy and sticking out at weird angles, dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, she looked a mess...but she felt even worse: She hardly slept last night, and when she did, visions of Lincoln plagued her dreams. At five, she came awake in the throes of a panic attack, her chest clutching and her breath locked in her throat. She spent the next two hours sitting up in bed worrying and chewing her nails. Lincoln, everyone failed to realize, was…
That thought dropped off when Lynn entered the kitchen with a loud, obnoxious yawn. She wore red shorts, a white T-shirt, and socks pulled up her calves. She scratched the small of her back and smacked her lips together like an animal tasting the morning air. "Did you make coffee?" she asked.
"Yes," Lori said tightly and flipped the egg.
Lynn sat at the kitchen table. "Well...can I have a cup?"
"Get it yourself," Lori replied, a keen edge in her voice.
Before Lynn could reply, Lola came in clad in a pink dress that stopped just above her knees. Without a word, she crossed to the coffee pot, grabbed a mug from the cabinet, and poured.
"I thought you had a date," Lynn said, leaning to one side and draping an arm over the back of the chair.
Lola hummed as Lori transferred the egg from the skillet to the plate and cracked another. "I do." She turned and took a sip from her mug. "I was just leaving."
Wasn't anyone going to ask about Lincoln? He was set on fire last night and rushed out of here half-dead. Even if they hated him weren't they curious? Didn't they understand that…?
"So," Lynn asked, "did Linc make it?"
Lola snorted as though the idea of him not making amused her. Lori bore down on her teeth and jammed the flat of the spatula under the egg. "Yes," she said tightly, "he did. They had to cut his legs off."
Crashing silence filled the room, and Lori was just beginning to think they understood the gravity of their predicament when they both started laughing, Lola bending at the waist and Lynn smacking the table with her palm. "They take his balls too?" Lynn hitched.
"Not that he had any before," Lola added.
Nuclear rage detonated in Lori's chest. "IT'S NOT FUCKING FUNNY!" she screamed and spun on her heels. Lynn recoiled and Lola's laughter died on her lips. "Don't you fucking morons get it? Lincoln can't work, therefore we have no money. Who's going to buy groceries now? Who's going to pay the bills? You?"
Lynn started to speak, but Lori cut her off. "Shut the fuck up. Neither one of you work, Luna doesn't work, I don't have a job...the only one with an income is Luan, and that's not much." She was trembling all over, her heart slamming like a drum. She saw understanding flicker across Lynn's stupid face, and the fact that she only now got it made Lori so fucking mad she wanted to go over there and throttle her. "We are fucked. Lincoln's going to be in the hospital probably for months. What are we going to do?"
"L-Luan can pick up extra shifts," Lynn offered."And go back to hooking."
Lori's jaw dropped. Did this dumb fucking shit just suggest Luan work extra? Of course she did, because she was a lazy fucking peaked-in-high-school fucking jock who went on and on about the time she scored a game winning touchdown in tenth grade forty fucking years ago. She walked around with a fucking chip on her shoulder because boo-hoo Lincoln got me pregnant and I couldn't go pro. YOU NEVER WOULD HAVE GONE PRO! GROW UP AND GET OVER IT!
She didn't realize she was speaking her thoughts until the reverberation of her shaking voice bounced back to her own ears She didn't care. "You need to get a job," Lori said and jabbed her finger at her younger sister. She wheeled around, and Lola cringed. "You too. My food stamp card is now off limits. You want your fucking kids to eat, you'll get a job."
"Greedy fucking bitch," Lynn sneered.
Lori whipped her head around. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Lynn said.
"I do everything in this house. I cook, I clean, I take care of your fucking kids while all of you ignore and neglect them. Nine times out of ten, I buy groceries, I buy them things they want. What the fuck do you do?"
Lynn's eyes narrowed. "I don't neglect my daughter."
"Oh, yes you fucking do," Lori spat and rolled her neck. Her hands were clenched into fists, and part of her hoped Lynn tried something; beating her in the face would feel soooooo good right now. "She found out she was pregnant, and did you console her? Support her? No, you instantly started a fight with Lincoln. You don't care about her."
Hot red color touched Lynn's face, and her lips pursed; her right hand clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched.
Next, Lori turned to Lola, who simply stood there with a dumb, awkward expression on her face. "And you let him fuck your six-year-old. In front of God and everyone. You're a piece of shit, bitch, fuck you, fuck all of you." The smell of burning egg filled her nostrils, and she spun back to the stove. "Yeah. Fuck you. We're all fucked. Either get jobs or sit in the dark with no food. Not that any of you care, I'll be the one saddled with taking care of your kids, fucking freeloading scumbags."
Lola jumped when Lynn slammed her fists against the table. "Fuck you, Lori. You think you're so much better than us - "
"I am better than you, sweetie," Lori hissed.
Lynn jumped to her feet. Her face was as red as her shorts now. "I don't need this shit," she said.
"That's right, run away," Lori said. She snatched another egg from the carton. It broke in her hand, and she angrily flung it into the sink. "Run away from your responsibilities. God knows Lynn Loud Jr. can't be bothered to deal with the consequences of opening her legs for her brother."
"Lincoln - "
"Didn't rape you, honey. I'm getting really sick of you bitches acting like he did. You spread your fucking thighs, you let him finish in you, it's your fault."
"Fuck you, Lori," Lynn said. "You and Lincoln have can each other; you're just alike anyway."
Before she knew what she was doing, Lori was grabbing the skillet and turning, was flinging it. Lynn's face paled and she ducked; it slammed into the wall, grease and bits of burned egg splattering the plaster. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Lori roared and stabbed her finger at the doorway, where Lana and Luan stood, both of them looking confused and slightly afraid. Lynn stood to her full height and regarded Lori with murderous eyes. Lori was ready; she was ready to rip that bitch apart then move onto the others. She'd tear this whole fucking sorry place to the ground, she'd destroy everything in her rage, fuck it, fuck them, fuck their kids, fuck everything, fuck Lincoln, fuck Leia, fuck this so-called family, fuck Mom and Dad and FUCK EVERYGODDAMNTHING!
"Fuck you, Lori," Lynn snarled. She turned and stormed out of the kitchen, brushing past Lana and Luan. Lola took a nervous sip of her coffee and stared off to her left as though she'd found the most interesting floor tile to study. "There's your goddamn breakfast," she said and turned the stove off. "I'm done. It's every man for himself now."
She shoved away from the oven and stalked out. In her room, she dropped onto the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. Her breathing was ragged and her lips quivered, but no tears came. She was done, spent, entirely out. She tittered and shook her head. Something had to happen; they couldn't go on like this, not with Lincoln out of commission, not with everyone so selfish and emotionally crippled.
At this point...they'd be better off dead.
Leia Loud had one thing on her mind and one thing only: Raping her little sister. She initially conceived the plan last night after doing the same to her big brother (he liked it, though, no matter how hard he cried). Laying in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, she ran it through her mind a hundred times, tweaking it here and there as needed. She was so excited that she could barely sleep, and at one point got up and stood over Lizy's sleeping form, a twisted smile on her face. Just wait, you little bitch.
That Saturday morning, she came slowly and peacefully awake in a warm bar of sunshine, her eyes fluttering open and the corners of her lips turning sharply up. She stretched like a cat, and the soft kiss of fabric against her girlhood made her giggle and bite her bottom lip. She turned her head and grinned at Lizy's sleeping form. Later, little sister...later. First, she needed to pee. She swung her legs out from under the covers, got up, and went out into the hall, her nose pinching at the awful stench that had become the norm lately. Why does it stink so bad out here? Sigh. These people are disgusting.
In the bathroom, she lifted her dress and sat on the toilet, the seat cold against her warm flesh. She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her upturned palms. If Lyra or Liena didn't have a dildo or something, what could she use on Lizy? Being three, Lizy's pussy hole would be very small, so it didn't have to be big, though she'd prefer if it was: She wanted it to hurt. Stop, Leia, she could see the little girl crying, you're ripping me! There was the TV remote, that might work. Or...maybe she could make Lemy rape her. Hmmm...no, she wanted that little creep to herself. Oh well, she'd find something.
Done, she grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped, a shiver going down her spine when her middle finger brushed her clit. Ummm. She should masturbate.
No, she'd save that for later.
In her room again, she slipped out of her nightgown and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper. Lizy was still in bed, curled up on her side and facing the wall. Leia didn't know whether she was asleep or awake, but she spoke to her anyway. "We're going to play a game later" She opened her top drawer and took out a pair of white panties. "I think you'll like it." She bent and pulled them on.
Lizy didn't reply, didn't move. For some reason, though, Leia was suddenly sure the girl was awake and listening. What a creep. "We can play it after breakfast. If you want."
Still no response. Whatever.
Dressed now in a pink shirt and a dark gray vest over a white shirt, Leia crossed to her vanity and sat down. In the mirror, Lizy was unmoving. It was almost like she was dead. That made Leia smile. One day she'd kill the little twerp...maybe...but not soon: She enjoyed playing with her too much, the way a cat plays with a mouse.
Humming, Leia put her blonde hair into long, flowing pigtail and clamped them in place with purple clips shaped like butterflies. Her eyes darted to Lizy's reflection when she thought she saw movement. She watched it for a long time, waiting for the little bitch to do it again, but she didn't.
"Come on if you're hungry," Leia said and got up. She left the room without another word, and waited at the top of the stairs for a moment before going down. Guess she wants to be molested on an empty stomach. Leia snickered to herself as she went through the living room and into the kitchen. Dumb twat. Did she have any idea what a waste of life she was?
No.
But Leia was going to make damn sure that she did.
She entered the kitchen and halted.
It was empty, the sun dappled floor a desolate wasteland populated by nothing and nothing alone.
Really? Lori couldn't get off her fat ass long enough to make breakfast? Typical. No one around here did anything...oh but they acted like they did, and then they had the audacity to play the 'I'm-a-grown-up-and-you're-just-a-kid" card. Pfft. If that's being grown up, she'd hate to see what being immature looked like.
Guess I'll get my own food. She went to the pantry and opened it, her hand going to her cocked hip. Scanning the shelves, she saw odds, ends, and mix-matched items that couldn't form a coherent meal if they tried. Her stomach rumbled and she threw her head back with a frustrated sigh. Why was there never anything to eat in this stupid house?
Maybe there was something on the top shelf. She went to the table, grabbed a chair, dragged it over, and climbed on. She swept her gaze across the shelf, and grinned when it fell upon a half pack of Saltine crackers. Bingo.
She ate them as she went back upstairs; they were stale but when you're hungry, stale doesn't mean much. Lizy was still in bed like the lazy sack of shit she was, and Leia rolled her eyes. You know what? She'd had enough of this. Back in the hall, she went to Lyra's door, which stood ajar, and knocked. After a moment with no reply, she stuck her head in: Liby was sitting on the edge of her bed with a doll hugged to her chest, putting Leia in mind of a scared little girl whose Daddy was hitting her Mommy in the next room. Leia rolled her eyes again. How fucking pathetic. Was she really the only normal one in this whole family? She glanced at Lyra's bed: It stood empty and unmade, the bedclothes a messy tangle. Perfect.
Ignoring her retarded older sister, Leia went in, padded to Lyra's dresser, and opened the top drawer. Let's see, there's gotta be a vibrator or something in here. She sifted through socks and underwear, but found only a little baggie with green stuff in it. Of course she's a drug addict; like mother, like daughter.
Next, she went to the nightstand. Liby watched her with trepidation, the way a girl would watch a small but potentially dangerous animal.
No vibrator.
What, does she use her fingers? What a basic bitch...fifteen and still poking it with her index finger like an eight-year-old who'd just discovered the joys of self pleasure. Take it to the next level, will you? She turned, and speak of the Devil, there she was now, standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel, her long brown hair wet and matted and her eyes as big around as dinner plates, as though Leia were a space alien instead of a ridiculously cute little girl. "W-What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with accusation and...fear? Pfft.
"Don't worry about it, Skitz," Leia said distastefully, "I was just leaving."
She slammed the drawer and started across the room. Lyra stayed where she was, her hand clutching the towel and her lips parted. "Move," Leia snapped, and the older girl stepped aside, her fevered eyes following Leia suspiciously. Leia ignored her: She wasn't concerned with her psycho sister right now, her mind was on...other things.
At Liena's door, she drew back her hand and knocked. She had to have a vibe with as much as she looooved sex. Leia overheard Lynn make a joke once about Liena liking it so much because when she was 'plugged' into Dad her IQ rose fifty points and she went from being a retard to just stupid. That made Leia laugh until tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Yeah?" Liena came back, her voice muffled.
"It's Leia," Leia said, "I need help."
Liena didn't reply for a long time. Leia was about to just open the door and go inside when the older girl called out. "O-Okay, come in."
Leia opened the door, and a nauseating wave of sickly-sweet odor shoved her back. Her face crinkled and her hand went to her nose. "Jesus, what is that?"
"Nothing," Liena said. She sat Indian style in the middle of her bed, her hands resting in her lap. She flashed a big, toothy smile.
This isn't a cartoon, honey, you're not fooling anyone...you're up to something. Not that I care. "Do you have a vibrator I can borrow?" she asked into her hand.
Liena blinked. "A-A vibrator?"
"Yes," Leia replied shortly, "a vibrator."
Liena stared at her in confusion. "But, that's like, way too old for you."
What a fucking idiot! "Liena, I've had sex with Dad and Lemy. I think I can handle a fucking vibrator."
Speaking of Dad, did he live? She'd have to ask Lori or something. Remind me in case I forget.
Shurgging, Liena got up, went to her drawer, and pulled out a purple hunk of plastic with a curved edge. "Here," she said and handed it to Leia, "like, clean it before you give it back."
"Will do," Leia said absently as her eyes caressed the purple pussy plower. She didn't know exactly how long or wide it was, but she did know this: It would split Lizy in half. A wicked grin spread across her face and she turned from her older sister without another word. Down the hall, she slipped into her room, threw a cautious glance left and right, then shut the door, her thumb catching the lock. Lizy was where she left her, facing the wall and not moving a muscle. Oh, she was about to move plenty of muscles, though...mainly butt muscles.
Leia was going to put it in her ass, is what I'm saying.
"Oh. Lizy," she said with a playful hilt, "I have something for you." She pressed a button, and the vibrator started to hum.
In her bed, Lizy trembled. She didn't know what was coming, but she knew she wouldn't like it; she never liked anything Leia did. Her stomach rolled sickly and she jammed a comforting thumb into her mouth. Why did she hate her so much? Lizy only wanted to be close to her...only wanted Leia to love her...
She closed her eyes against a rush of tears and steeled herself for whatever Leia was about to do.
Even so, she could never have been ready for what she actually did.
Lupa lit a cigarette, inhaled, and blew out a sharp plume of smoke that rolled and danced in the air like a gathering of phantoms.
In the next bed over, Lacy drew a deep breath and wiped her tearful eyes with the cuff of her gray sweater. It was baggy and came down to her knees because it wasn't really hers, it was Dad's. She slipped it out of her dresser last night and put it on; his smell clung to it and comforted her. She hated him for what he did to her and their baby (and to Lupa), but she also pined for the way things used to be, for the long nights he would hold her in his strong arms and pepper her shoulders and the back of her neck with tender kisses. She was so damn happy then, her heart filled with love and her mind filled with visions of the future - marriage, babies, a little house somewhere, just him and her and their endless love.
Thinking about it now, feeling its loss as a sharp ache in her chest, she sighed and hugged herself. She'd forgive him if only he'd wrap his arms around him the way he used to, if only he'd kiss her and gaze longingly into her eyes...if only he would love her.
Lupa tapped her ash on the floor and took another drag. She sat with her back against the wall and her battered legs stretched out in front of her in a V. The glass ashtray on her nightstand overflowed with butts and empty soda cans clustered around it like a circle of men around a kneeling woman in one of the porns Lacy watched with Dad. She stole a furtive glance at her sister: She'd been wearing the same hoodie and skirt for nearly a week and she hadn't bathed. Her hair was dirty and knotted, and her complexion was a pallid shade of white. Under the tang of smoke, Lacy could smell the pungent aroma of her unwashed body, an oniony scent that made her stomach turn.
Given up...she'd given up.
And it was all Lacy's fault.
"I'm sorry," she said now, her voice weak.
Lupa took another drag and pushed it out.
"I should have done something." Her vision blurred with tears. "Please stop being mad at me. Please."
Puff. Blow. Emotionless and unchanging.
In the span of a few short weeks, Lacy had lost everything that mattered to her: Daddy, her baby, Lupa. There was nothing left, nothing more that could be taken away. Her eyes went to the razor on her side of the nightstand; sunlight glinted upon it like an evil wink. Come on, little girl, you know you want to.
Oh, she did...she wanted to close her eyes to this miserable life forever...she just didn't have the guts to do it. She tried again and again; the ugly scratches on her wrists bore testament to that. None were very deep...none had even really bled...but they stung nevertheless, and the memory of the blade slowly tearing her flesh sent ice dropping into her stomach.
She was starting to hyperventilate now. The walls felt like they were closing in on her and the air was too dry, stagnant. "Please, Lupa, I...I can't take it anymore."
With a contemptuous hum, Lupa flicked ash onto the floor.
Lacy hugged herself an fought to keep from crying, but she lost and gave into her tears, her head bowing and her shoulders shaking. Please, God, kill me, just let me die.
On the other side of the room, Lupa stabbed her cigarette out and looked at her sister. Her face was hard, dark, and hateful...but something flickered in her eyes, something like sadness. She turned away and stared down at her lap, her cold, dead heart beginning to work and pump blood through her frozen veins for the first time in a week...or was it longer? She wanted to hate Lacy...she needed to hate Lacy..because the truth was, at her core, Lupa was in pain, and she would rather hate than admit how hurt, how tearfully wounded she was. And it wasn't Lacy per se, it was everything - how alone and afraid and unloved she was. Lacy kind of represented that in a way, because Lupa loved her so fucking much that she would die for her, but Lacy didn't love her enough to do the same. No one loved her that much...no one loved her at all. Lacy might feel something, but when you got right down to it, she was nothing more than a fairweather sister. You couldn't count on her...if you leaned on her, she would collapse like a dry rotted deck railing.
But wasn't she being unfair? When Dad was aborting Lacy's baby, what did she do? She sat on the couch locked in fear - just like Lacy did. The only difference was: Lacy was sitting on a bed. If she was really willing to die for Lacy she would have gotten her ass up and went to her instead of letting her terror - and that's what it was - of her father stop her. Right?
Yeah, lotta room to judge.
She was afraid, though. She didn't want to admit it even to herself, but she was - scared of Dad hurting her, scared like a little fucking girl.
Then again, did she expect Lacy to not be as well? Do as I say, not as I do?
Lupa slipped another cigarette from her pack, plopped it into her mouth, and lit it; the smoke rolled harshly into her lungs and she held it. Lacy's a fairweather sister but I'm the real deal. No you're not, shut the fuck up. If she's wrong then so are you. She hazarded a glance at her sister, her expression softening. Lacy was on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest. She sniffled faintly.
She started to speak, but stopped herself as tears flooded her eyes.
Soon...but not right now. She really, really didn't want to cry anymore.
She's the leader, she's the one, she's the leader, she's coming to get you.
Lyra went to the window next to her bed, yanked the blinds aside, and peered into the backyard. It stood empty in the warm winter sunlight, but she knew they were watching her, she could feel it just as sure as she could feel the sunshine on her skin. She swept her gaze back and forth, then turned away.
Don't let her kill us. Don't let her in, stop her, kill her, make her go away, save us, protect us, DON'T LET HER KILL US!
Her hands went to the sides of her head and she pressed as hard as she could as if to squeeze the voices out. Her face screwed up in a pained wince, and a long, low moan rushed out through her teeth. It didn't work, though: They continued. Liby left, they got to Liby, she's scared of you and she's listening to what Leia says. Leia's the devil and she's making everyone hate you.
Lyra let go, went to the open door, and poked her head out: It was quiet...too quiet. Something was happening, something was coming, the balls were being set in motion and soon the net would close. She saw herself being held aloft like an Old West cattle hand, hanging in the town square from her neck WHILE THAT BITCH LEIA GOT AWAY WITH IT. This was bullshit! Every fucking time she turned around it was the other way. Oh, she's psycho, she needs to take chill pills and go to bed. But Leia pranced around and did whatever she wanted because she was "untouchable." She knew what that little girl was but she never said; I'm going to save her, she's not evil, she's not one of them, she's a child and my sister and I love her.
I HAVE NO SISTER! NONE OF THEM!
They're all liars and fucking skinwalkers. They all lied! Keep her doped so she doesn't know, keep her on fucking drugs so the show can go on and on, my friend, well, guess who's up and atom now, bitch. You think you can keep this from me, but I find it out every time...EVERY TIME. I let you talk me into it. Oh, you're sick, oh, you hurt Liena, oh, go to hospital and pass GO. I take your poison slob, I sleep, I can't live, then I smarten up because you can't keep a good girl down.
Kill her, kill her, kill her.
SHUT UP! YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE ME KILL HER!
She tittered and rocked on her heels. That's how they do it, they put things in your head that you wouldn't come up with on your own and they say 'kill her, kill her, kill her.' That's part of the plan, go with the flow, 'kill' Leia so they can lock you up forever, but Leia won't be dead because she's the main cause of the matter, she's the infiltrated. She knows all your thoughts and secrets, she's the bug, the worm, the thing that goes bump in the night. All roads lead to Rome, why don't you follow the money? You see that curtain? Pull it back and it's not the Wizard of Oz, it's fucking Leia. It's always Leia. She's the one bugging her room, she's the one saying kill me, kill me, kill me.
Lyra reached her nightstand and spun in a complete circle, her lips carving upwards in a mad smile. If I do kill you, I'll kill you like I mean it. You won't come back from the grave this time. I. Will. Bury. You.
Bury her. Kill her. Keep the homestead safe.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she roared. She balled her fist and slammed it into the side of her head; stars burst across her vision. Sudden tears filled her eyes. "Stop talking to me, just...stop...talking…Leia…"
In the next room over, the object of her hatred sat on her knees and slowly pushed the vibrator deeper into Lizy's rectum. The girl little made no sounds as her sister violated her; she sucked her thumb, clutched her Titanic model to her chest, and shed silent tears, her fragile toddler mind shattering a little more with every stinging, agonizing thrust of Leia's toy. It didn't hurt as badly as it did at first; the blood oozing from her tattered walls geased the way.
Leia licked her lips obscenely as she reached her sister's limit. She yanked the vibrator out, and Lizy's muscles tensed, her hips jerking spasmodically forward. Leia held it up to the light and tilted her head, her eyes locking on a single bead of blood coursing down its purple flank. It was darker than she was used to, which, she thought, meant it came from deep inside. She looked from it to Lizy's butt: Her pale, creamy cheeks were smeared crimson and her hole was bigger than it was when they started, the edges more ragged. "Your butt looks really gross now," Leia said. "It's almost as bad as your face." She held her middle and index fingers together and jammed them in with a hateful snear. Lizy let out a satisfying hiss and her rippling walls clamped around Leia's fingers. She slipped her free hand under her skirt and brushed her aching clit. "Say my name," she growled.
Lizy didn't reply; Leia scraped her sharp, manicured nails along the toddler's insides.
"Leia," the little girl said. Her voice was flat, broken.
Leia rubbed herself faster. "Again."
"Leia."
She brushed her teeth across her bottom lip; a hot blush spread across her face and her tiny nipples poked against the fabric of her shirt. "Call me Mommy."
"Mommy."
Leia threw her head back as her orgasm began to rise in her stomach. She increased her speed, her fingers mashing her clit...tearing and ripping Lizy's anus...her mouth opened and her eyes clamped shut. Tiny, labored exhalations burst from her trembling lips, getting faster and deeper as her climax approached. When it hit her, her body bucked violently and she let out a long, hitching uuuuuhhhhhhhh. Her muscles locked and her arousal gushed out of her in a stream. It felt like her soul was coming out. Best. Cum. Ever.
"We'll have to do this again," she said as she dismounted her sister. Her knees shook and her body tingled pleasantly. She giggled and got up. Lizy lay there like a slug, hardly even breathing. "Very soon...like tonight."
She grabbed the vibrator, crossed to the door, and opened it, sparing one final glance over her shoulder. She couldn't say for sure, but she thought she'd finally done it...finally crushed Lizy's spirits.
That made her happy.
In the hallway, she went to the bathroom, glancing into Lyra's room as she passed: The older girl was peeking through the blinds as if looking for something outside. Leia rolled her eyes. Skitzos, retards, pyromaniacs...this family was like something a bad fan fiction writer would cook up just to troll people. If God was good, she would have been given up for adoption and taken in by a rich family instead of being cursed with these people.
At the sink, she turned the faucet on and held the vibrator under the spray. Would this make it malfunction? She didn't know, but she hoped so. She could see it now: Alone and under the covers late at night, Liena slides in slowly into her pussy...and boom, 50,000 volts. Her eyes would pop out, her hair would catch fire, and her face would melt like that Nazi's at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Leia giggled.
Done, she cut the sink, went out into the hall, and dropped it in front of Liena's door. On her way back to her own room, she caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. Lyra was standing in her doorway, staring at her intently, her brow furrowed and her fists clenched. Leia stopped and turned. "What's your problem, Skitz?"
Lyra took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She reminded Leia of an ape...a big, ugly, schizophrenic ape. Leia put her hands on her hips and tilted her head forward; her brows shot up and her lips pursed. "You have something to say?" she asked snottily.
The older girl mumbled something,
"What was that?" Leia asked. "I can't hear you, Skitz."
"...me alone."
"Excuse me?"
"I said leave me alone...stop trying to make me kill you."
Leia laughed long and hard. "Honey," she said, "you couldn't kill me if your life depended on it."
Out of that, Lyra only heard two words: Kill me. Her anger boiled over, and she shot out her hands. Leia's eyes widened when they clamped around her throat; a shocked exhalation flew from her mouth.
"STOP IT!" Lyra screamed and squeezed, her nails digging into Leia's soft flesh and closing off her windpipe. The little girl's heart began to slam and she gasped for air; there was none, and sharp panic filled her. "JUST. FUCKING. STOP."
Lyra's face was inches from Leia's now, their noses mashing together. Leia strained to breathe but couldn't. She tried to speak, but it came out as a gurgle. She flailed her arms in an attempt to drive the older girl back, but Lyra held her at arm's length. In a desperate bid for survival, Leia clawed at the back of her sister's hands, but that served only to make her madder: She squeezed harder and began to shake. Graynes tingled the edge's of Leia's consciousness, and her heart and lungs throbbed in sickly unison.
"You're done, you're done, you're done, you're not going to do this anymore, do you hear me? No more. No more."
Leia's mouth worked in a silent plea for mercy and her face was turning a deep shade of purple. Her eyes were moist, hazy, and pooled with terror. Her legs quivered and her knees knocked forlornly together...then they gave out and she fell, but her sister was there to catch her...and to hold her up.
"No more, no more, no more." Lyra's voice echoed dreamily in the corridors of Leia's oxygen starved brain. She felt warm all over, and fuzzy too. Her legs jerked limply, and she scratched weakly at Lyra's hands; her fight, and her life, was draining fast.
"No more, no more, goddamn it…"
Tears coursed down Leia's purple cheeks; his eyes strained in their sockets. Her fingers fluttered feebly against the backs of Lyra's hands. Inside she was screaming, thrashing, fighting to live, but outside, she was going slack. Something popped in her throat, and fiery pain consumed her. Let me go, let me go, please, let me go, please, please, please don't kill me, please, Lyra don't kill me I don't want to die please. Her tears came faster even as her eyes began to roll back into her head. Darkness stole over her and her brain started to fade.
It's not fair, she thought sullenly as she died, it's just not -