I had a sister once. I never knew her name. She wasn't born with one.
Because I was.
We fought for dominance in the womb, fought to see which one of us had the right to live. And I won. I was born a winner.
The loser, she became a part of me.
And I wonder: every time I'm defeated, every time I fail, what does she think of me?
I took her life. And I have to prove to her that I was worthy. That her sacrifice was not in vain.
I have to live for both of us.
This is good. Terse short rapid fire sentences. As if the writer doesn't want to linger too long for fear that the emotion will take over.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good. You can totally feel the emotion and an almost guilt-like sense throughout the drabble.
ReplyDelete