Page 66 of Cruel (Brutal Academy)

She leaned in closer. "I want you to do more than cry. I want you to know— I want everyone to know— I'm the better sister. When you lie awake at night, I want you to regret all the things you did that made people think you're better, smarter, more competent than me. All the things that got me overshadowed and pushed aside."

I frowned. "I never—"

"Yes," she hissed. "You did. Don't pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about. If I got an A, you had to get an A+. If I fell over and skinned my knee, you had to fall and break a bone. If Zachary fucked me, you had to fuck him too. If any guy looked at me, you had to get his attention. If it took me two tries to get my driver's license, it only took you one. If…"

I rolled my eyes. "You act as though sibling rivalry is something new. As if I'd break a bone on purpose." I narrowed my eyes. "If I remember right, I broke my wrist because you tripped me."

She sat back. "I wished I'd broken your neck."

Breathing the same air as her was becoming difficult. "There's still time."

She smiled slightly. "No way. Like I said, I want to see your face when I win. After that…"

"I hear the psychology faculty here at Brutham is very good," I said with forced evenness. "You might consider going to see them and getting some therapy." She was starting to make Zachary seem sane. Hell, she might give Ice Miller a run for his money in the unhinged department.

"You know what they say about revenge being the best therapy," she said.

"Revenge for what?" I asked. "For living my life? For trying to live up to Dad's expectations? For breaking a bone after you made me fall? Fuck that. I have nothing to be sorry for. Whatever picture you have painted in your mind, it's fucked up."

"It doesn't matter, I'm still going to win," she insisted. "You say you have no regrets now, but that will change. You will eventually. I promise you that."

Her cold fury knocked the air out of my lungs.

"I don't think you care about winning," I told her. "I don't think you really care one way or another if you lead the family. You have this idea in your head—" I waved a hand in the direction of mine. "That somehow my existence is the reason why your life isn't perfect. If there was no competition between us, you'd make one. You would have done the things you did."

"Yes I would," she agreed. "Every bit of it."

I regarded her for a full minute or two. "I get it," I said softly. "You have nightmares about the rooms in the basement too, don't you?"

She shook her head faintly. "I don't know what you're—"

"Yes, you do," I kept my voice gentle but insistent. "Let me guess, he told you you needed to spend time in there because you weren't good enough at something." Her flinch told me everything I needed to know. "What was it?"

She averted her eyes. "You're wrong."

"No, I'm not. What did he tell you weren't good enough at?" I didn't expect her to tell me, but she needed to understand there was more to all of this. It wasn’t about what I did. It was what Dad made her think about me and herself. Our whole lives were a mind fuck.

She scrunched her eyes closed like she was holding back tears. "He told me I needed to be better at everything than you, because I was the oldest. He told me I needed to think about what I'd done and how I could do things better. He said time down there would give me the chance to think."

"But all it did was scare the shit out of you?" I guessed.

"I was weak," she whispered. "I let it get to me because I'm not as strong as you."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Is that what you think? You think I handled being down there better than you did?"

"Didn't you?" she asked. "Did you scream and cry and beg to be let out?"

I hesitated. "No. I curled up in a ball in the corner and hoped like hell he wouldn't forget I was down there." My eyes glazed as I thought back. The memories, the fear, were as fresh now as they were back then. I doubted they would ever disappear into a cloud of the past. They lingered too long and too close to the surface.

"After a while, I had myself convinced he had forgotten. I was sure I was going to die down there. Eventually, I thought dying might be easier than being in there any longer. I was ready to give up when finally the door opened."

"But you didn't give up," she said. "I did. I disappointed him and I disappointed myself. But I won't do that anymore." She wiped the tears from under her eyes with a vengeance. "I will never give up again. Even if one of us is dead at the end of this."

I sighed. "You realise we're messed up because of what Dad did to us? Right?"

"He only did what he did because he wanted us to be tough," she said. "I'll prove to all of you that I can be tough."

"By making my life miserable," I said.

---