Family is a bitch, you don't get to pick and choose your blood, just live with them until you don't. Some break free, some stay. It's a blessing and a curse. Always a tricky situation, a complex choice to make. Do you let the people who hurt you crumble you and bring you down to their level or do you rebel? Do you see their perspective or do you stick with your own prejudice? They say there are always two sides to a story, is that true?

However, this story isn't about all families but about the Anders family. Matilda was the good child, while Brianna was the devil herself. It wasn't always like this, yet, this is how they remember it because they seem to fit those roles more than the previous. With these sisters, sibling rivalry had never been more true.

When did the feud start? Longer than they both can pinpoint.

Who threw the first punch? That's up to debate on who's side one takes.

It could have started when Matilda had walked home to hear moans going on in her bedroom at the empty house. She walked cautiously, noticing the chain she had gifted her boyfriend on the floor along with Brianna's shirt. Matilda gulped as she reached her room. Should she have gone in? Maybe remaining ignorant would have been better, yet she didn't. She creaked open the door to see Brianna supporting herself with her hands on his chest while he laid on the floor, thrusting upwards into her. From this angle, she could see his face as clear as day. Everything stopped, aligning with her broken heart, as she watched in pain while their pleasure took over the room. His eyes opened to see her and his mouth quickly formed her name, which only caught Brianna's attention.

She remembers her cold eyes landing on Matilda who stood frozen in her doorway. What could she do? Brianna always got what she wanted, this time she wanted her boyfriend and got him.

"Close the door on your way, you're ruining the mood with those sad puppy dog eyes," Brianna said, knocking Matilda out of her trance. She quickly shut the door and ran down the stairs, allowing her tears to fall down like a broken dam, allowing everything to come out.

Maybe it could have been the time that she was finally over that boyfriend and had started seeing someone else, only to have Brianna crush his hands on the hood of his car, effectively ruining his piano career.

The music was blaring at the lake house as color lights sparkled across. Brianna laughed as she walked through the house with the girls behind her filled with laughter and contentment, greeting people from the highschool. Everyone was here and going crazy. There had been a 50 dollar fee but no one questioned it, as long as they could be in a party thrown by the baddest bitch in town. All her parties were events of the year, even if she threw them multiple times. This one was a summer blow off, even people from the nearby college were invited. That's where Matilda's new boyfriend was from.

They sat in a huddle group in one room with his guy friends, Matilda perched along his lap like a parrot on a pirate. She molded into him perfectly, at least that's what everyone thought with one look. His land lays on his thigh as they rub up and down, raising her skirt dangerously high. She pulls at it back down, noticing the carnal stares at the either high or drunk guys, playing poker. "Don't worry, you're all mine," he breathes in her ear.

"I-" Matilda shifts uncomfortably on his lap and moves away his hand.

Someone laughs from the group before shaking his head. "I thought you said she loved you, but she won't even let you touch her."

His green eyes flash with anger before he squeezes her thigh in a warning, "your embarrassing me, Maddy." There was the blasted nickname she hated people calling her but she kept her mouth shut. She hated how it sounded coming from his mouth at the moment, said with malice.

"She is and she does," he says before grabbing her boobs in front of the guys and squeezing them. Everyone let out a bark of laughter at the action except Matilda who jumped up from his lap in shock. "Come sit down again Maddy," he says and rubs his cock that was hardening under his black pants with a chuckle. Matilda feels herself frozen and is about to do as told before her eyes meet her cold and disgusted gaze in the doorway.

"Why don't you join me instead?" Brianna says as Matilda's heart drops to the soul of her feet as she watches her boyfriend smirk at the guys he seems to be trying hard to impress.

"Damn, two girls in one night dude," the same guy from before says. Then jokingly asks Brianna, "can we watch?"

Brianna's wicked smile widens from one side, making her look like the joker but more innocent. She wore a tight leather skirt and a black bralette with heels that allowed them all to gaze at her legs. Every guy would love to have a poster of her like that hanging on their walls. "I thought you'd never ask?"

The guy does a sign of a fake explosion toward his head before they all get up. "Crazy," he says as Matilda's boyfriend accepts Brianna's extended hand.

"Maybe you guys can join next?" She says with a wink. "Come on Maddy, let's show the guys a good time," she begins dragging them outside near the cars before reaching hers.

"Brianna-" Matilda's voice is drowned out by the hollers and jumps of excitement all around her as she follows like a lost puppy.

"In a car?" the prodigy pianist scoffs.

"Yeah," she says and opens the door before guiding his hand on the edge, "you don't like the idea?"

He shrugs, "I guess it doesn't matter but let's make it quick. I have a concert in the morning."

"Really?" she says with a seductive smile as she runs her hand over his chest before she drops her arms and her face falls. "What a shame," and slams the car door hard on his hand.

His wailing is loud as everyone around them widens in surprise. "Fuckkk," he says but Brianna doesn't open the door. Instead she squats down and yanks his hair up.

"Next time you want to grope someone in public, make sure it's worth the broken hand because I can tell you," she gets closer, "Matilda wasn't worth it."

She stands up and straightens her skirt as the guy wails behind her and tries to pry open the door. His friends unfreeze from their shock and go to help him as Brianna walks up to Matilda and grips her arm, "and you. Next time a guy gropes you in public like you're nothing, make sure to cut off one of his limbs."

Maybe Matilda could forgive the rest, but she couldn't forget the most important reason. The fact that she blamed Brianna for her parent's death. After all, they moved here because they needed a fresh start thanks to Brianna and the drama that followed her.

My legs bounced up and down as I bit the side of my lip. My hands were bound under my butt, if not, I'm sure they would be tapping uncontrollably against the brown leather couch. I had sat here a million times, yet being here with her, it felt suffocating. She was like a centrifugal pump, sucking out all the air I had. I could hear my heart pumping through my chest and wondered if she could hear it too.

I look beyond my therapist through her window, the sky's been dark since the morning. A warning I shouldn't have taken lightly. Now, I could see the tiny rain drops coming out, sprinkling the area. I looked over at Brianna who seemed to be intently focused on the rain as well. From her side, I can see the people on the grounds scurrying away from it. Then there was Millie, she was a redhead on my floor I had befriended in my 3 years here. Her family had left her for dead, so we bonded about our lack of family. I had been abandoned by mine as well.

Yet, there Millie was enjoying the rain with a smile as wide as the Nile River, while her caregiver yelled at her from a distance before approaching her. Millie runs from her grasp and spins in circles. It's like I can hear her giggle.

Millie had been abandoned and long forgotten, and here I was with the only living remnant of my family and the only person who knew me. We had a chance to finally fix things once in foreall. I was willing, but I didn't know if she was as responsive. By the way, her eyes focused with an intensity as bright as a blazing fire to anything but what was happening in here, I doubted it.

I wanted to call out her name, bring her back to the present or wherever her mind had wandered too, but all the confidence I felt had slowly depleted leaving me like an empty gas tank.

"You must be Brianna," a sweet caramel apple candy voice sounded from the front. I finally focus my attention on my therapist as Brianna still sits inanimate on her chair. The only thing giving her away that she wasn't a cut-out poster was the small shake from the leg draped over the other.

My therapist was one would call fragile. At least, that's how she looked. She was as skinny as a stick with wispy white hair. She wore practical clothes such as a dark pantsuit, the only jewelry she wore was a gold band bracelet wrapped around her bony wrist. A gift from her ex-husband, the only nice thing he ever gave her. Sometimes when she was telling me her thoughts and how we could work on my improvements, I stared at the band and heard the small jingle it makes when she moves, remembering that no one has it all together. I feel that has done more than her talks.

I had described her voice as caramel apple candy because just like her looks, she was deceiving. She comes up with ways to sugarcoat the bad, but when you dig through all the sweetness, you get a hard bite of bitterness. She was tough and didn't like playing games, but eased her way by testing the waters first.

"Brianna," she calls her name a little louder now. I feel like a kid in school when the teacher calls someone not paying attention, I casually lean over and tap her arm. She flinches for a second, clearly not expecting someone to knock her back to reality. Her eyes are wide and filled with a certain panic as if she had seen a ghost. A look I had seen once before, the day our parents died. She hid it well, because as soon as her eyes met mine, her whole demeanor changed. It was like watching Clark Kent turn from an ordinary person to a superhero, in her chase, a child of the antichrist. Her eyes got darker as they danced with annoyance and her stance straightened up, assessing the room and assessing the professional in front of us.

The office wasn't much, my therapist kept it neutral for everyone. Even her diplomas stayed in a drawer behind her desk. Yet, anytime I was here, she tried to take them out so I could admire them. That's how she got me to open up the first day I walked through her doors.

"I need help," I gasp out as I open the doors, clutching my chest as the unsettling feeling of the walls caving overtook me. My breathing became laborious and I saw small black dots appearing. I had forgotten how to breathe. Why?

"Hey. hey," her voice came at a distant whisper. I could feel her touch, but why did it feel so surreal? "I need you to close your eyes and focus on my voice." I do just that before hearing a loud, "everyone shut up."

I can't see her, but I can feel her presence again. "I want you to open your eyes and you're going to follow my instructions. Okay."

I don't respond but I open them and she continues.

"Tell me 5 things you see around you."

"I look around us and start listing what I see, "scared people, chairs, water bottles, gowns, you."

"4 things you can touch."

"My legs," I do just that, "the floor," my hands fall to the cold surface under my warm touch, "your hair, and your hands." She doesn't stop me when I hold them, in fact, she gives it a light squeeze.

"You're doing good. Tell me 3 things you hear." My breathing has evened out as I list them, but she continues.

"2 things you can smell."

"Medicine, and" I sniff the air before saying in a confused tone, "sulfur?"

I can see her eyebrows scrunch up before she finally asks, "one thing you can taste."

That's when I register the smell of sulfur as I feel my own body come back to me. "Blood," I tell her and bring my hand up to my mouth where a bit of blood is starting to seep.

"Oh my god," she says and grabs my hand, guiding me to the bathroom. I was my mouth and gave her a humorless laugh.

"I must have bit myself and not realized," I say as I grab towels, "I'm not even sure why I came here. There's nothing wrong with me."

"You had a panic attack," she tells me bluntly, "I think you know why you came."

"I-"

"Come on," she tells me and I follow her down the pathways. "I'm a licensed therapist."

"How can I trust you? There's nothing that proves that."

In seconds she rummages through her drawers and takes out the wrapped diplomas before laying them on the table. My eyes instantly widen as I grab them like Gollem grabs the ruling ring. With care and obsession.

"I've always wanted one and here you have 4."

"Why didn't you get one?"

"I-" my voice falters a bit as I think about whether to tell her the truth, but I figured it wouldn't hurt. "I had to drop out of high school to work."

"That must have been hard."

"Someone had to do it and it couldn't be Brianna."

"Brianna?"

"My sister, but she's- going away."

But now she was here again, with a coy smile as she said, "sorry. I saw the ghost of the girl I killed."

My therapist, Miss Lipton, looks unimpressed. "That's not a very funny joke," she says, her eyes boring into Brianna who changes her smile for an amused one.

"Wasn't a joke."

"It's true," I speak up, "she killed her friend 3 years ago. The day I walked in here.

"That-" her voice falters, "wasn't something I was expecting."

"Why not?" I shrug, "I've told you all about my life."

"Half of the time I wondered if it was true," she admits in a whisper, as if she was ashamed of herself, but I didn't blame her. Most of us here told lies like they were second nature.

"Well now you know it's not and she really is that fucked up," Brinan says with a grin. Anytime she was causing trouble, she always seemed to flip between ways to show she was enjoying what she was doing.

"I prefer the term work in progress, but let's circle back to the ghost you saw?"

Brianna shrugs it off like it's nothing. "Gracy likes to be a bitch. I killed her and the least she can do is stay down. Don't you agree?"

"Why did you kill Gracy?"

This earns an eye roll for her before sarcastically replying, "because I saw the gun and thought what the hell."

"Brianna, committing murder is a very serious subject," Miss Lipton chastises.

"I'm very well aware," Brianna's tone is defensive, "if jail didn't teach me that already, then trust me. I'm still paying for my crime."

"How so?"

"Why don't we talk about your failure as a therapist instead of my failure of not burning her dead body, maybe that would keep her ghost from haunting me."

Miss Lipton seems taken aback and offended as she reprimands, "what failure?"

My nails dig into my skin, penetrating it slightly so that if I kept going, blood would come out as I wondered if she was going to rat on me. "How about failure to now know your patient was suicidal? Or did you know?"

"She's not suicidal anymore."

"Well she doesn't seem fully fixed either," Brianna counters.

"Therapy is about helping and giving the person the mechanisms to use. I can't fix her because there's nothing to fix."

"I disagree. She's a bag full of crazy who couldn't even go through with her attempted suicide." Her gaze turns to me, "what stopped you? Huh? You should have called me and I would have helped you go through with it."

"Stop," Miss Lipton yells while the tears roll down my eyes. "This isn't how the family therapy session was supposed to go."

I stand up and head for the door, "you're right, because there is no family. Brianna was adopted, so technically we're not related at all." I turned to her and said, "I should have let you die that day," then kept walking down the corridors to find Julio.

Matilda was like an angel, especially when living with the devil, it was easy for people to not see what was right in front of them. She was the girl who had to give up on college or high school to work dead-end jobs that burned her out, but she did it for her younger sister. The thing is, when a feud has started, no two parties ever come out scot-free. All I know is, she can deny a lot of things but Matilda is not as blameless as she wants to be.

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