DISCLAIMER: No sexual activities involving minors. All persons in sexual relations are of legal age.


“Fuck off, squirt!” said Celia before banging her door in my face, after successfully scheming for my grounding for something I never did, for the hundredth time that month. What a drag…


When I was born, I suppose the first people I ever saw were the nurse, the doctor who did all that baby juggling doctors do and then my mom. Although it’s pretty logical, I can’t really tell if that’s true, as I don’t remember much from the first minute of my life. I am sure it involved a lot of pain, flesh tear and swearing but my head was mostly covered at the time, either flesh or goo or any other disgusting slime out there that babies are covered with when they appear in the world. The definite thing is that the first person to see me after my mom was not my dad, as he was away on business, but Celia, my sister, or should I say adopted sister.

My mom was diagnosed with a reproductive system that was exceedingly hostile to both sperm and child-bearing in general. The uterus was not the correct shape, the rest of her internal reproductive organs not ideal for reproduction either. So, she and my father decided to adopt a child. That child was a beautiful baby girl, Celia. However, when Celia was three and against all odds, I was conceived and actually carried to term when she was four. Doctors prohibited mom from having any other offspring due to huge risks for everyone involved, namely her and the baby, so she got her tubes tied. I was to be the first and only offspring of my parents, genetically-wise. Outside of DNA, both me and Celia were of course indistinguishable as children to the both of them – as how it was supposed to be if the parents are not shitty, and out parents weren’t, at the beginning at least. They did a pretty shitty job as we got older, though, if I were to be honest.

Celia was a curious kid when I was born. As time went on and our parents put all their energies into me, she started getting jealous. That put her in the path of instigator of my misery. I don’t recall much until I was five, but from then and on I do remember my life as pure hell. The fact that she was curious meant that she was ever-inventive in finding ways to inflict or prolong my misery. She was absolutely brilliant in this. She would concoct schemes that I wouldn’t be able to defend against, with the very limited anti-scheming ability of a five-year-old that I possessed. Being nine versus being five is a huge difference, and Celia truly drove that point home again and again.

On the other hand, I adored her. She always got me into trouble, but still, I loved her. For the life of me, I don’t know why. I mean, she did treat me like shit. Still, I always wanted to be around her. When she graced me with her presence, she almost always made me regret it. Increasingly so as we got older.

The one time I remember from that age is her birthday. I remember being so eager to give her my present, a flower that I got from our garden. I went to her, said “Happy Birthday Thelia!” and have her the flower, me full of smiles. She did a double take, then took the flower. To my utter surprise and, yes, gut-wrenching dismay, she let it fall to the floor, stepped on it and stormed about face to her room. I remember how crushed I was, just like the flower she stepped on. Mom was livid.

“Celia, come here this instant! I will NOT condone this!” she said.

“Then keep your real child and give your fake one back to where you got me from!” she screamed from her room.

I just cried. Even after so many years, after all that has happened, I can still remember the heartbreak of that moment so vividly. How could she do this? Whatever issues she had, I was… five. And I did it from a place of love. She literally crushed me.

How damn cruel.


Things didn’t look up for Celia. Right before high school, she contracted two viruses in the same time, a bacterial pneumonia and a strand of infectious mononucleosis which combined and resulted in a debilitating case of a long-term pneumonia which hit her everywhere and lasted quite a few months of total suffering. It was a very bad year for Celia, as she lost one school year. I, on the other hand, continued along my studies at school, actually being one of the best students. That had a debilitating effect on our relationship. She now was not only jealous of our parents attention when I was a baby – which in itself was a pretty shitty thing to do, as it wasn’t really my fault to begin with — hell, I was just a baby, I needed their attention! — but also jealous of the fact that I was healthy and she suffered so long and so much. When she came to, we obviously still had the four-year difference in age but only three-year difference in school, and that basically made her hate my very guts bursa escort to the bitter end.

That was very unfortunate, at the very least, to me, as I still truly cared for her. I wanted her to be OK, I hated the fact that she suffered. I always tried to cheer her up and do goofy little things for her. She always was very cross to me, at times that bordered on a pretty fucked up behavior. As an example, once that I dared get her what she usually had for breakfast she threw it at my face and screamed for me to “Fuck off! Get out!”. I left her room crying, heartbroken once again. Our parents did see that, but never did much about it, as they attributed all that to the illness and the psychological pressure it brought about. The thing is that, she hated my guts and was left unchecked to continue hating my guts. And I was left to be the target of her ire. Shitty parenting at its finest.


When she entered high school, things started changing for her. As she was one year older than the other kids there, she was more developed. She was a freshman as developed as a sophomore. Plus some of the sophomores where her former harpy friends. All that, plus the fact that she was so damn beautiful, made her one of the most popular girls in school. With all the pent-up rage that she had, she was a true bonafide bitch. Most of all, to me. To say that she made my life a living hell during her high-school years would be the understatement of the century. The shitty thing is that I STILL wanted her presence in my life. I actually understood that I was developing a teen crush for her. I knew that we weren’t biologically related, but that fact was irrelevant to my psyche. I was missing her presence all my life, and she was so beautiful, and she treated me like shit. So I started crushing on her. A true Masochist’s delight, Like a fucking simp for the ages, an early teen simping debutant. For my bitch of an adopted sister of all things.

Another pretty bad thing with her health occurred when she was a junior. She contracted streptococcus in school, which, combined with her history with pneumonia and a frail set of lungs, made her stay at home for quite a few months that year as well, not having the ability to read as she was truly suffering. That only meant that she, once again, had to skip yet another year in the end. It was the last straw to make her hate her very life, and of course, me more than that. I started high-school when she was sick. By the time she restarted school as a senior, I was a sophomore.

In the meantime, I had developed into a pretty good-looking, well developed, older-looking and pretty strong kid for my age, with an excellent academic record and serious with playing the piano and practicing martial arts. All the while, Celia had wasted two years of her life in sickness-induced misery. No wonder she hated everything.

I still had some left-over feelings for her. She still had the same feelings for me, pure, unadulterated hatred. As two years older than her peers, she was a woman when all the other females where girls, so she was to be the defacto queen of the school. As I soon found out, despite the fact that she was my sister, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, at school or anywhere else for that matter. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Mom told her to drive me to school right on the very first day.

“Not no, but FUCK NO! I won’t drive him to school! He can get his own transportation! He ain’t showin’ his fucking face in my car!” she vehemently said.

“How dare you, Celia!!! He is your brother! How can you talk like that about him!” said my mother, extremely pissed.

“If you don’t like it, you know what to do!” Celia screamed.

They were still getting at it when I talked.


They were still arguing.


Still arguing.

“MOOOOMMM!!!” I raged and banged the table. Everything on it flew up and two plates fell and broke. Both females looked at me wide-eyed and totally shocked.

“I won’t ride with her to school” I said calmly.


“I will go there as I have all this time, either on foot or by bus or bicycle. I have been doing it for a whole year already, nothing new” I continued.

Still silence.

“For the record, you needn’t have worried her. I would never go with her to school. Actually, I would never go with her anywhere. She has her own life and I have mine. And I would like you to respect that and leave her alone. OK?” I asked her.

Celia looked at me not believing her ears. Mom was pretty shook up too.

“Now if you will excuse me, I need to leave. I don’t want to be late” I said, and left for school.

I was extremely pissed. But relieved as well. I finally got a grip on the situation, having understood that I wasn’t worth that shitty behavior from her – or anyone else for that matter. She was unlucky in her life with the diseases and all and she had the trauma of adoption, but in the same time she was damaged bursa escort bayan goods. I did not need that shit in my life, too much drama. I really thought about that long and hard, and had already decided that I needed to purge her existence from my life. That day was the first manifestation of that resolution, and the emergence of the new me.


If one knew that we were siblings – or whatever the hell we were – one wouldn’t be able to tell just by seeing us. We had absolutely no contact in school, this time me being the main instigator. She could be right in front of me and I wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence; she would mostly do the same. I always picked the tables in the cafeteria that facilitated lack of visual contact.

Things started going way south when I started getting interested in a girl. Mandy was a sophomore, like me but, thankfully for her, way more beautiful. Yeah, I’m a guy, sue me. Anyway, she was pretty good with the academics, and was good with athletics as well. She wasn’t one of the mega-populars, which was Celia’s circle, but she wasn’t disliked by anyone. If it weren’t for my sister, I wouldn’t be either. But things are what they are.

In any case, two were the problems here. One, Mandy idolized Celia. Two, Celia hated my guts. Once she got whiff that I liked Mandy, she immediately befriended her, essentially blocking me from her. She then took her under her wing, and soon enough, Mandy was no longer the Mandy I knew and liked. She was a ‘popular’ girl brown-nosing Celia’s ass. She even started looking at me funny, Celia’s work self-evidently apparent, no doubt.

I was disappointed, but not surprised. Celia on the other hand gloated with pride, having proven how easy it was for her to destroy my life in school. She only had to befriend the girls I liked and they were immediately not available to me anymore. She had power over me, power that I never gave her myself but she took regardless. I contemplated doing something about this, but then thought better and decided not to. It would only add fuel to her ego, give her more satisfaction and she wouldn’t change a thing. Of course Mandy became an item with a jock in Celia’s circle, and as far as I was concerned, Mandy was no more, nor was she to ever be again. It was either Celia or me – and Mandy did make her choice.

I thought about this long and hard, and decided to just wait until Celia graduated and exited my world for good – hopefully. So I focused on my studies and hobbies. I absolutely ignored Celia completely. I think that at some point she saw that, but I didn’t really care anymore. She didn’t exist for me in school and she didn’t exist for me at home, and likewise her friends. Whenever she brought her harpies, Mandy included, I was either out of the house or in my room, and in the few times we existed in the same space, I behaved as if they did not exist. I knew that this might stir up more shit but I literally didn’t give a flying fuck anymore, and I believe everyone got the message, at least eventually.

She must have understood that something was way off with me at some point, as she hesitantly started trying to interact with me, but I never, ever and for no reason whatsoever answered any calls to my name from her nor acknowledged her presence at all, just continuing to do what I did as if I heard absolutely nothing. I believe that she must have thought about forcing me to interact with her but thought better of it and didn’t attempt it, thankfully for both of us – I am sure that if she had forced the issue it would have really gone way south. My door was always locked, and she or her friends would never knock at my door anyway, nor me hers. I essentially blocked her presence from my life completely and utterly. We lived two parallel, disjoint lives and I liked it that way. She basically brought this upon herself, and I was fine with it. No news, good news. And no Celia meant no news, so all good.

I thought the year would never end but it finally did. Celia finally graduated. My parents dropped hints that maybe I should attend the ceremony. I had already decided not to attend, but kept the matter vague until the very last moment, when I simply didn’t show up, much to my parent’s chagrin. I just wanted nothing to do with her, and that included my being present in her ‘important’ moments as well. Although I didn’t have a message to deliver through my absence, as I truly wanted nothing to do with her, somehow there indeed was a message there and it got delivered – big-time.

It was the next day after her graduation that I heard a soft knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“It’s… it’s me” she said behind my closed door. She seemed reserved, as much as I could tell from her muffled voice.

“What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”


“… w… what?” she asked.

“No, you cannot. I don’t want you in my room. If you wanna ask something, do it like this” I answered.

She tried to open escort bursa the door.

“DON’T YOU F U C K I N G TOUCH MY DOOR!” I shouted. The handle was immediately left alone. I just was seething. The sheer audacity. “What the fuck do you want?” I asked.

“I… I didn’t see you at my graduation yesterday…” she said.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“W… Why?”

“Why the hell not? Why on Earth would I be at your graduation?” I asked her.

“Well… it was an… important m… moment for me… I am your only sister, and…”

“WHAT???” I shouted. She was so fucking audacious. The fucking gall. “You… you serious now?”

I saw the door handle starting to turn again.

“I said LEAVE MY FUCKING DOOR ALONE!!!” I shouted. Again, the handle was free. I heard a gasp. “You are seriously going to play the sister bullshit now? You… Just… ” I said and punched my own leg from frustration. She gasped, I heard it through the door.

“Are you OK?” she asked with a tone that showed she cared for my well-being. What the actual fuck. Did I wake up in a parallel universe?

“You don’t get to ask me about my well-being, goddammit, so cut that shit out!” I shouted. Yet another gasp. This felt extra-dimensionally weird. I got up and went to the door myself and opened it. There she was, with ruined mascara and tears. What the fucking hell? “What the hell happened to you?” I asked her.

“I… I was worried…”

“About… me?” I asked her and pointed at myself. She nodded. I couldn’t believe this shit. I just started laughing. Like a damn maniac. She just looked at me with wide eyes.

“What the fuck do you want, Celia? The goddamn truth” I said.

“I… I wanted to ask you w… why you didn’t show up yesterday… I was afraid that s… something happened to you…”

“You. Were. Afraid. That something. Happened. To ME?” I recited word-for-word, pointing at myself on the ‘ME’ part.

“Of… of course… I… I searched for you in the crowd all the time…”

“YOU” I said and pointed at her. “Searched. For. ME” pointing at myself, “In the crowd. ALL the time?” I asked back, again reciting this word-for-word.

“Of… of course I did…” she said, as if shocked about my suggestion that she didn’t.

I just looked at her as if she had two heads; screw that, at least ten heads. And then started laughing again.

“We are done here” I said and closed the door in her face.

The door handle started turning once again. I was enraged. I banged the door, almost breaking it. I heard her scream and falling on the floor behind.

“HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO FUCKING TELL YOU TO NOT. FUCKING. OPEN. MY. FUCKING. GODDAMN. DOOR?!?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING R E T A R D E D?!?!?” I shouted almost berserk, hitting the door at almost every word. She gasped and started heaving. I could hear her from behind the door. This shit was way beyond weird.

“I… I… am… m… s… sorry…” she said, in between her sobbing and heaving.

“If you ever touch the fucking door-handle again you will be sorry you were EVER. FUCKING. BORN!!!” I raged. “Do you understand?!?!?”

“Y… Yes… I’m… sorry…” between heaves and sobs. What the fuck.

I opened the door. She was a mess on the floor at the opposite wall of the narrow corridor. This was way beyond next-level shit.

“I don’t know what the fuck it is that you think you are pulling here, but you ain’t fooling me. You can cry me a river and pretend to be sorry, for whatever reason I just cannot fathom, since you always took immense pleasure in throwing your shit right at my face all my fucking life. Now you pretend to be sorry, what for I have absolutely no clue. But I can see right through you. I know what you are. You are not the type to be sorry. You are a fucking psychopath, a goddamn narcissist, a true self-centered entitled cunt. You are dead inside. Deader than dead. Rotten dead. And you are EXACTLY as dead to me. So spare me the fucking theatrics. Or don’t. In either case, I honestly do not give a fuck.”

She balled her eyes out as I said all that. Parallel universe indeed.

“What the fuck are you pulling right now?” I asked, truly perplexed. She was a mess. “This is just too fucking weird. I am leaving. Fuck this” I said and left the house for a bike ride. It was the only thing to get me some semblance of normal. Did Celia grow a conscience suddenly? Well, fuck her if she did, fuck her if she didn’t. Fuck her if she is trying to pull some shit again. Fuck her if she decides to become a nun and atone for her sins. Fuck her anyway. Not worth the trouble.

When I came back home, I didn’t see her anywhere. Relieved I went to my room.


I thought that Celia got the message and left me be. It was summer, so we did have some sort of family time when we all ate together. I, for my part, continued with my no-sister policy and acted as if she did not exist. Just like before, she timidly tried to initiate conversations with me, and I just didn’t answer her, or even look her way. I believe she knew just how bad I could become if she pushed her luck, so largely let me be, at a distance. As far as I was concerned, that distance could be gigaparsecs and still be too short. But that was just wishful thinking.

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