"I thought you'd be hungry, so I brought pizza."

Sandor carefully placed the medium sized box beside Alana, who stared at the whistling kettle with Stephanie in her embrace. She hadn't said a word since he arrived. Her parents decided to be the heroes of the day by bringing the best person in the world.

Her brother.

Every inch of her skin was covered in goosebumps. She didn't know how she was controlling herself today. The last time he showed his face was a day she wished to repeat. The fork she threw at him barely missed his face as it ended up on the wall, right above his ear.

As if being locked up wasn't bad enough, she was stuck here with Sandor, who was acting a bit odd to her taste. She knew him, he was nowhere near nice. No one would believe her if she told them half of the things he had done to her, especially the incident. He was everyone's favorite little Mr Perfect. He was every ladies' dream man. He was the best of the best.

She wanted him dead.

"Nice room by the way. I love how the color blends with the curtain materials," He stated with a look of awe.

Alana's eyes didn't leave the whistling kettle, her lips didn't open to say a word, her body was as still as a ceramic statue. The whistling kettle did nothing to reduce the tension between them. For some reason, she missed her reflection. She preferred her teases and taunts to this.

Sandor exhaled loudly before sitting down beside her, a bit too close to her discomfort. she fought the urge to slap him out of her room, or possibly, out of the universe. She had never felt so choked by a person before, it disgusted her to the core. Everything about him disgusted her to the maximum.

"Trust me, I don't want to be here as much as you don't want me near you," he stated. "Mum and Dad made me come here, to be the loving brother you have."

Alana didn't notice the tight squeeze she gave Stephanie. He destroyed her, now she was stuck in this room because of him. He was the main reason why she hadn't experienced the outside world for three good years.

"Alana," He called. "It happened seven years ago, can't you just forget about it and stop spoiling our family name. We can't take much of your madness any longer. You need to grow up."

No response.

He sighed once again. "You're twenty one years old and you're still playing with stuffed animals. You're supposed to be in college now but here you are, sulking over the past. In case you don't know, I've changed. I'm wiser now. I'm no more the bully, Alana. Stop making me look like the bad guy here."

Once again, there was no response except for the whistling kettle that sat on its usual spot beside the little fridge.

He was tired of her. His parents made him cancel an important meeting abroad so he'd see some psychotic girl that didn't want any contact with him. He felt like it was a waste of money and time. She didn't want to be helped, so why bother on an object that is beyond repair?

"You have no one except us," he continued. "You have no one, not even your night in shiny amour that's in between the legs of your best friend."

He didn't know why he was still talking. Part of him wanted to get a reaction out of her, while part of him warned him that he was going too far. But at this point, he couldn't care less. He knew he should have told his parents the whole truth of what actually happened that day. It was her fault for acting up because of attention. She had to learn, even if it meant sneaking in her room and getting on top of her while she was asleep. He would have done it if she wasn't that much of a light sleeper.

Some days or weeks later, she tried telling them but he denied it. He knew it was wrong of him but he couldn't spoil his image. He never liked his sister to begin with, he couldn't stand being in the same room with her anymore. She's beyond saving, they should give up and live their normal lives.

He didn't know why he wasn't satisfied with what he just said to her. What is because she wasn't reacting to anything? Was it that disturbing sound of the kettle whistling? Why should he care anyways, she's a psychotic fool and will always be one. She will never improve, she will never change. She held that toy like it was her child, it disgusted him.

He made an attempt to yank the stuffed animal out of her hands, but she grabbed his wrist in a death grip, startling him. Her eyes remained on the kettle as his were on her.

"Don't touch Stephanie." She said calmly, but it didn't sound right in his ears.

The tension between them grew from awkward to dark. The temperature in the room dropped drastically, he felt cold all of a sudden. He felt numb on his hand, due to lack of blood flowing in that area. He tried yanking his hand off but she kept it firmly in place.

"Don't. Touch. Stephanie." She repeated venomously.

She named a stuffed animal. He almost scoffed. She named a stuffed animal Stephanie. He knew she was mentally deranged but he didn't think it'd be this bad. He should feel a bit of remorse, a bit of guilt, but he couldn't. He didn't see the reason to feel anything for her, she could die lonely for all he cared. He had a mansion, a job, and a wife and nothing will ruin that for him, especially not the scum.

Moments passed until she let go of his wrist. 

Rubbing the sore part, he stood up. "What happened to you, Alana?"

It was a stupid question to ask, he knew exactly what happened. He knew he was the main reason why she was here all alone, locked out of existence. She had no contact to the outside world, she had no one. She had no one because of him. He finally put her in her place in this world, a lonely piece of shit.

He had only taken three steps towards the door before turning to look at her. "You disgust me, Alana. I don't know why I even tried forcing myself on you in the first place."

Before he could even blink, she rushed towards him in a dangerous speed before tackling him to the ground. 

He wanted a reaction, he got a reaction.

 He should have known that mentally unstable people tend to have abnormal strength, for he tried pushing her off of him, but each punch she landed on his face weakened him. Her bloodcurdling screams overshadowed the whistling kettle. He tried screaming for help but it was useless. Suddenly he felt hot liquid on his face, awakening the sensory neurons on his skin before transferring to his brain, which forced out a scream that seemed to match with hers. He tried pushing her up again but felt hot metal making contact with his face, at this rate he knew he was done for.

She felt more powerful as she hit the hot kettle on his face repeatedly. She felt all the emotions rush out with a hit each, her heart banged against her chest as she felt the adrenaline take over. How dare he make a mockery of her! He doesn't even know what he put her through, he doesn't even know the half of it! Each hit was a symbol of the pain she had gone through. Each hit was a reminder of her undying hatred towards him. Each hit was for the feeling of betrayal and bitterness for her boyfriend and best friend.

Damn him.

Damn them.

Damn them all.

 She held them all in for way too long. She was right, putting it out on someone felt so much better than making holes on walls.

She felt his body go limb beneath her. She couldn't tell if the red color that clouded her vision was his blood or her rage.  All she cared about was the bittersweet feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. It was about time she poured everything out on someone, even if it killed them.

The moment of satisfaction was cut short as she felt two strong arms grab her on her shoulders, yanking her off her brother. She trashed around with screams and grunts, waving her now bloodied hands and kettle in hand. She couldn't hear anything asides the beating of her heart, her vision was blurry but she could make out two figures carrying Sandor out of the room. She hadn't felt so alive in decades, it felt like forever. The power she felt was so overwhelming, it made her a monster.

She loved it.

Then a prickly sensation on her shoulder cut her off her mind, suddenly feeling drowsy. Fighting  the sedation was useless so she let it take over. She hadn't felt so light in a long time, she felt fulfilled.

As the shadow consumed her, she let out a laugh.