My sister ran off. She left me. And then she killed a man. I think. I wasn't there, I don't know. But from what I can tell, she killed him. With no second thoughts. I think I hate her. But I don't know, I don't seem to know anything anymore.

I paced around my medium bedroom, gazing at the red and blue Spider-Man wallpaper stickers. Tracing my small fingers over his face longingly.

I wish I was like Spider-Man.

Carefully, I took out my Wolverine action figure and my Spider-Man one. I pretended the Wolverine killed an innocent man and Spider-Man pretended not to see or understand what has happened. Not even realizing how similar the situation was to real life.

~~~~~

After some time (I lost track), Maya came home. I'm so mad at her. She should have never left me. I wish she wouldn't have come back. I know I hate her now.

She tried to speak to me. But I just shrugged her off. I couldn't be bothered with her right now.

At dinner she didn't speak much, nor did I. In fact, no one spoke. They treated it as if it were a sin. And I just went along with the "speaking is a sin" game. I'm angered at myself for that.

I went back upstairs and Maya knocked on my wooden door.
"Hey," she muttered, her voice trailed off halfway through.
"Hi." I said coldly.
"I just wanted to talk to you. I don't want to have this tension between us anymore." She said pleadingly.
"Talk and then leave." I say, still in my harshest voice I could pull up at nine years old.
"Okay," she began, "I'd better start with..." She pauses. "I never killed the man that took us. I promise you on my life. Also, I ran away, yes, and I'm sorry. I couldn't deal with this at home. Not anymore."
"Anything else?" I ask, forgivingly.
"Yeah, about what you saw."
I breathe in.
"I'm a werewolf. A murderer. A monster. You say it, and that's what I am. But I do love you and I always will. Even if that love isn't returned. I will always love you. Always." She turns away and walks off before I get to say anything.

Honestly, I'm glad she walked away. I'm glad I didn't have to say something—because if I had to I would have burst into tears, letting them fly from my eyes and burn down my cheeks before I could get words out.

Later that day, maybe nine or ten o'clock, I overheard Maya and Daddy arguing.
"You cut yourself, Maya!" I heard my dad yell quietly.
"Dad, I don't need someone to talk to." Maya says quietly, but sternly.

Then, I started to fall away into my dream world, only picking up a few words.

"You... hate... ugh!" That's all I heard out of Maya.
"Don't... stop... Maya!" My daddy was yelling ferociously.

Then I heard it. The worst word in the dictionary.

"I hate you, Maya." That exact word came out of my dad's mouth.

My dad said the 'h' word.

Finally, my eyes felt like weights, so I decided to go to bed. You would too if you heard that. You would want to sleep for an eternity.

I wonder how Maya felt.

~~~~~

The next morning, I found out. I found out exactly how much my father's words damaged her. I found out when it was a little too late.

A/N
Ugh. Another short chapter. I wanted to write more but I didn't want to spoil anything more so I ended it here. I'm sorry. The next chapter will hopefully be supppppppppperrrrr long. :D