That was my first thought when I met my new step sister. She’s 17, and I hate her already. She moved into MY room, and immediately hung up a satanist poster. When I asked about it, she smiled kindly, and threw a sharp rock at my head. I screamed, and right before my parents arrived, she took down the poster and ran to my side. That way, my parents thought she was helping me. Blood ran down my face, as my stepsister spun a tale about how he threw it at me and it bounced off of her arm. They believed her. By the time I got back from the hospital, she had hung up a curtain to separate us. The poster was up again. For weeks we fought. She would hit me, yell at me, but when anyone else was around, she was so sweet. I would always tell my parents, and they always told me it was in my head. It was always “an accident”. Until it wasn’t. That day, I was outside in our garden. There was a tree above me. Unbeknownst to me, there was a wasp nest up above. I heard the buzzing right before it happened. I looked up. There she was. My stepsister, cutting the branch that held the wasp nest. It fell on me. The venom made me pass out, and I had been stung on my face and around my eyes. The swelling prevents me from seeing. I was taken to the ER, and she almost got away with it. She had convinced them. Later, she broke into my hospital room. I was awake, but couldn’t speak. She stole my blood bag. Now, I don’t know what exactly happened while I was in the hospital room. My sister told me that my parents went into her room at home, and found jars of blood. My blood. She had been collecting it. Apparently, she needed it for the devil. An offering to give her her dream life. But to finish it off, she needed to kill. She told me that she explained this to them, shortly before she cut off their heads. She cut open my stepmom and burned my dad. They both died, and she ran away. She ran to my room to say goodbye. She said that she wished we could have gotten along. That’s why she kept me alive. She promised to visit me, and ran away. The police say it was a suicide. But I don’t believe it. I know it was my step sister. But I don’t need to tell the police that. Because she’s family. Plus, if I told them, I’d die. Because I made a deal with the devil too. And all I need is my stepsisters blood.