“Are you serious?” I ask, a laugh slipping out.

“You’ve killed people!” The villain in my story, but the hero in hers—Carre—said.

“What do you mean?” I ask, a grin on my face. My enjoyment obvious.

“You hurt people with everything you steal, every place you rob..” Her voice was low, like she couldn’t believe it.

“Those people aren’t innocent. They’ve killed someone or gotten in my way,” I say—matter-of-factly.

“How—“ she pauses, turning away, and then back to me, “How do you do this with your _whole_ being?”

“Honey, it’s easy.”

“You make people’s lives harder! You kill innocent kids,” she emphasized.

“Honey, they are bystanders. They _do. Not_. Matter to me.”

Her empathetic eyes widened. “I feel so bad for you.”

“Don’t feel bad. I’m so grateful, these items I’ve collected have satisfied me.”

Suddenly she raises her voice, “Do you _NOT_ HEAR ME?”

“Yes, I do. But I think your opinion is a lost cause.”

She slammed the door. My _sister_ tried to talk “sense” into me, but I didn’t need it.

I whispered underneath my breath, “You don’t understand me. You never will.”

My shell would never crack, I’d never let that happen. She didn’t need to know the burdens I carried for _her_.

Suddenly tears stream down my face. I slap my face, “No no no.” The emotionless front I put up collapses and so does my body.

She hears my body slam on the floor and rushes in. “No no—malon—wake up.” Her panicking turns to tears.

“Please.”

I grab her hand and my whole body gives out. _Please don’t let this be the end._ I beg, to whoever will listen.

_ I’m right here darling_. I hear someone say.

“God?” My subconscious asks.

“Yes. Do you receive me as your lord and savior?”

“Yes, please, I don’t want to die. I’m not ready yet.”

“Okay, daughter.”

It felt like hours but I finally woke up.

Carre is the first thing I see. “Sister!” She calls, joy of tears filling her eyes. She holds my hands, and I look around the room. Daisies in a vase on a desk—my favorite. My eyes tear up and she seems confused.

I try to use my voice but I can’t, I just put a hand to my heart. She puts her hand on top of mine.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay.” The words soothe me to my core.

I let my eyes rest, and I finally seek some rest and relief I’ve desired.

My eyesight is black, I’m not dead—no—I’m resting.