Page 18 of The Cute Psycho

"You promised, brother. You promised you'd never kill family," she speaks, her form materializing next to me. She wraps her ghostly hand around my arm, urging me to let go.

My eyes widen as I watch her... so little, so powerless. She's dressed in the same bloody rags, her entire body a mess of cuts and wounds, her own eye hanging out of its socket.

My entire body starts trembling, and I let go. Misha crumbles to the ground and I take a step back.

"No," I whisper to myself.

She's not real. She's never real.

You'd think that years of seeing one's dead sister would make it easier on the eyes. But every time I see her small, feeble body racked with pain, I just lose it.

I try to regulate my breath, almost losing sight of what's happening around me. How Father's guards are storming in, taking Misha away to give him medical assistance.

Or how someone jabs a needle in my skin, the entire world starting to sway with me.

"Not again," is the last thing I say as I pass out.

I come around much later and realize I'm in my room. A cold rag is on my forehead, and small hands are tending to me.

I don't think. I just react, grabbing the arm of the intruder. A small gasp escapes her lips, and I realize I'm staring at my sister.

Katya.

"What are you doing here?" I croak, looking around for any guards.

Her lips are trembling as her eyes move between me and my painful hold. I quickly release her, expecting her to move.

She doesn't.

"Thank you," she starts, a little unsure, "for what you did back there. Misha is always picking on Elena and..." she trails off, looking away, suddenly embarrassed.

"What?" I ask, my voice a bit brusque.

"He makes her uncomfortable," she eventually says. "He always tries to corner her alone, and I can't always be with her. Maybe now..."

"He won't bother her again. I'll make sure of it," I declare.

I don't know where this came from, but as she smiles at me, I find myself happy at my decision to intervene.

"Thank you," she says again, surprising me anew when she leans forward to kiss my cheek.

I'm staring at her, dazed. She... touched me.

Everyone is afraid to even come close to me, and yet she, of her own volition, touched me.

My eyes must give away my bewilderment, because she confesses, "You're not so bad, you know."

Standing up, she leaves the room. And I'm still pondering her words... and her kindness toward me.

"Motherfucker! What do you think you're doing?" Bianca yells at me from behind.

I turn my head slightly toward her, holding up a piece of meat. "Barbecue?" I ask jokingly.

Well, she doesn't take it very well, because she quickly takes out her pistol, pointing it toward me and shooting.

The bullet whizzes past my ear in a deafening sound, lodging itself firmly in the head of the man next to me.

I don't react, although Vanya, sitting right by me, quickly places her palms over her ears, her eyes squeezed shut.

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