When we got back, Sarah had stopped crying. She even gave me a fakey smile when we
walked in the door.
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“You’re sisters,” Mom said. “Sarah
apologized. Let it go.”
Sarah smiled even wider.
“Sorry, Ashley! I shouldn’t have taken your
bunny.”
She was all smiles.
But I saw that glint in her eye.
Sure enough, when I got back to my room.
The stuffed bunny was in pieces.
Scattered across my desk, like a warning.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who had
done it.
In my last life, that’s just how Sarah was.
If she couldn’t have something, neither could
Sarah followed me inside.
“If you tell Mom and Dad, I’ll tell them you
tried to stab me with that knife.”
She held up a little craft knife, pressing the
blade against her palm.
I almost laughed.
Some people were just born bad.
I used to think Mom had spoiled her, but it
was more than that.
“It’s okay, sis,” I said, copying her sweet tone.
“Dad bought me a new one.”
I pulled the identical bunny out of the bag.
“If you want to play with it, you can.”
Sarah’s smile faltered.
She hadn’t expected me to use her own tricks
against her.
“Also,” I said, getting closer. “Little kids
shouldn’t play with knives. It’s dangerous.”
Then, before she could react, I grabbed her
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She gasped and struggled.
The blade sliced across my hand.
Her eyes widened with panic.
I blinked back tears, and screamed.
“Mom! Dad! Sarah cut up my bunny and tried
to stab me with a knife! Wahhh!”
From that point on, Sarah kept her distance
for a while.
She was still a little kid, after all.
I was better at acting, and knew how to stop
her right before she was about to start.
But as we spent more time together.
I started to notice things I hadn’t before.
At daycare, she tried to get the other kids to
ignore me.
She lied to the teachers about things I hadn’t
done.
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It was like she had a natural talent for being
evil.
Sometimes I wondered if the thing she had
done to get me in trouble in my first life really
was an accident.
Mom still liked her better.
But after the bunny incidents, she started
being a little more nice to me, at least in
public.
Things went on like that until elementary
school, when something happened that turned
things upside down again.
It was a choice that would change everything.
A friend of Dad’s offered him a spot for us at
a fancy private school.
But there was only one opening.
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Mom wanted to give it to Sarah, no question.
I was supposed to get sent to the regular
public school.
This time, Mom was ready to give it to Sarah
again.
But Dad asked us what we wanted.
When Sarah heard “fancy school,” she started
begging.
“Best Daddy ever!”
“Mommy, I want to go!”
“Ashley, what about you?” Dad asked.
“I…” I paused, playing like I wanted to go too.
“I don’t want to make Mom and Dad work too
hard…”
Dad stared at me.
Mom frowned.
The happy mood was gone.
Sarah didn’t notice anything was wrong.
“I want to go! Daddy, I want to go!”
“Okay, everyone, let’s eat,” Dad said.
He ended the conversation.
I thought they’d make the same decision they
had before.
Until September, right before school started.
Dad put two acceptance letters on the table.
He didn’t say anything. But I remembered
something he and Mom had been fighting
about a few days earlier.
Mom wasn’t working. So if we both went to
that school, money would be tight.
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Mom wanted to send Sarah to private school
and me to public school.
Dad had said, “You can’t be so obvious with
your favoritism.”
Mom stammered and said.
“I just don’t want the children to have to work
so hard to get things.”
“Why not send them to public school? Then
we won’t have to work hard?”
“I can’t. A lot of Sarah’s friends are going to
private school.”
I didn’t hear what they said after that.
Even though I was used to Mom choosing
Sarah, it still hurt.
But I didn’t think Dad would actually argue
with her.
He usually did whatever she wanted. He must
have had connections.
Since we were both going to the same
school, I could change the ending!
Once we started elementary school, Sarah
was careful around me.
But at school, she was still the queen bee,
like before.
We lived like that for three years.
Then, in third grade, something happened
that changed everything.
Right after Sarah and I turned ten, Mom
wanted a divorce.
Dad was out of town, but when he tried to
come home, he was in a car accident.
For the past three years, Mom and Dad had
been fighting like they had before.
Dad was always working late.
Mom thought he was cheating on her.
Plus, she was always favoring Sarah.
They were always fighting.
It had gotten to the point where they couldn’t
stand each other.