It had been a week now since she threatened to kill me. She was evil all right, but in a smart yet seemingly dumb way. No one would believe me if I had told, but I still tried to tell them and get protection for myself. Sure, she was only eight years old and I was eight teen, as I had been an adult for over a month now. So I really did understand why no one really honestly believed me, but those who believe me, they thought she was only joking. "She's just a kid," they'd say, "She doesn't know any better," they used to say, "Sure she's a brat, but she's not a demon," they joked. No one really did anything about her threat towards me, but it had been a week and I was starting to think the same.
It had been two weeks now, but she giggled as she said it this time. "I'm going to kill you," in a tone as if she were mocking me. I walked away thinking, "She's such a little brat, but she's not really evil, just a kid wanting negative attention.
The next week she told me with a dead serious look on her face, "I'm going to kill you," in a this is for real sort of way. I told people about it again, but I got the same reaction as I had gotten before. No one was going to help me at all. I started avoiding her as much as I possibly could.
It was the forth week that she came at me yelling and almost cut my throat, thankfully I had gotten away, but no one was around to see. Still, I told people again, but they still didn't believe me, for I had no proof and she denied it with an angelic look.
Nothing had happened for almost a half a year. I became to seem paranoid, for she did keep giving me those looks all that time. You know that look you mother gives you when she knows that you know she knows you did something bad, but wont say anything about it till you come out and confess? Well, that the kind of look it felt like, because it seemed to drag on forever and the way that kid looked at me, it was as if she hated my guts and wanted me to suffer, yet she always had a smile on her face. It was killing me!
The next day after I started thinking about suicide, she was about to have her way. I decided that's only what she wanted me to do, do kill myself, then she'd have no blame and it would look like I had simply gone nuts. I then played her game and stopped asking people to protect me or believe that she was going to kill me. I had even stopped talking about and thinking about the threats and looks all together.
Two weeks had passed and she seemed to be getting mad and showing her anger around others besides just me. They said she was just wanting to be a big girl and that because I was older, she had been feeling left out and a bit jealous. They let her do more things like a big girl would do. She seemed to be her seemingly sweet self to them, but I knew better. She still continued to give me those looks.
Later that week, when some how I got stuck baby sitting her, she was acting nice, but way too nice, if you know what I mean. I knew I couldn't let my guard down, but I was able to make it look like I let down my guard a bit, though with out really letting it down. I was sitting on the sofa, eating popcorn, while watching a movie with her. She had to go to the bathroom and said she'd be right back.
She had been in the bathroom for over five minutes now, so I went to check on her. When I go to the bathroom door, the light light was on, but the door was cracked open. She wasn't in the bathroom. In fact, she hadn't even used it. I would have heard the toilet flush and there was nothing in the boll. I started walking through the hall, back into the room with the movie playing.
I had just walking in on her cutting, the woman's throat who seemed to be me sitting on the sofa, but it wasn't me, though her mother. She had noticed it wasn't me and that I was back in the room. She then came at me with the knife and I grabbed it away from her.
She runs up stairs to her bedroom as I call the police. They come and find her. She was crying and saying that I had killed her mom. They took one look at me, with her mother's blood in my hands, as well for the knife that ended her life. They had arrested me for murder.
In the court, still, no one seemed to believe me. They looked up my records and had talked to other people who I, in the past had asked for help. They all decided I was nuts and that I should be in the big house instead of jail. As they said that, she smiled at me in that same way as she always had, sitting in the defendants booth; I still don't know why other people couldn't see past her angelic face and into her evil eyes.
She keeps visiting me often. Every time she visits I get a bad feeling in my gut. I've been snowed with the medication the doctors have put me on. She had visited me, what must be more than eleven times now and nothing has seemed to go wrong during any of my visits with her, they say. More of a reason for them to believe her over me, I just know this is her game. She told had told me in front of them, that she had finally forgiven me and still wants to be me to be her big sister, even though I had killed her mom. I never killed our mother.
She visited me again, but this time was different, she seemed to nice. I have written my story down, for I fear the drink she gave me had been poisoned. If I die, I just want everyone to know and to have a chance, the chance of help that I never had. Believe me, or die...
Okay, turns out that I didn't die, but it seems some how that she was poisoned and they're all looking at me as a suspect!
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