_When I was little, I used to torment my little sister into fulfilling psychopathic wishes of mine. She folded on every crease. This is her mindset if I were to imagine it._

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Lacy is strong and confident, she’s cool and popular, everything I wish that I was. She has friends that I would give anything to play with. But she hates me.

She hates me.

I wish she wouldn’t hate me,

I wish my sister loved me.

I think she sees me as a toy, maybe even a broken one. As she’s grown older, an entire 3rd grader as of now, she doesn’t play with toys anymore. They’re fun to poke and look at, but pitiful in an overall sense.

She made our mother have me just for her own entertainment- so that she had a playmate. But she’s grown too old, and she has no use for me now.

I want my sister to play with me, and to love me, but I’m just a useless doll.

She’s ordered me around to do her bidding like some throw away servant that displeases her. For an entire day I dedicated my service to her with no repayment because she asked me to play servant with her. Litterally.

She’s made me try out dangerous things before her so that she didn’t get hurt, because her life is valued higher than my own. I wouldn’t disagree.

And even after all of that, Lacy had tried to get rid of me completely, as if the mere sight of myself was plaguing her eyes. She’s pushed me down stairs, tried to poison me, hell- she hit me on the head with a lock as a baby. Any person would say that she’s sick in the head.

But I think she’s perfect.

Because in all honesty, “I would be anything for you.”

(I did not see that if said poem, my fault).