The Wrong Sister

Mariska normally crashed around 10 p.m. unless something was going on that she had to deal with. I would wait until about half an hour after she went to bed. It would take me close to an hour to ride my bike over to Lisa's condo and do what I knew I needed to do to set myself free. I tried to avoid Mariska as much as possible by appearing absorbed in the book I was reading, so that she wouldn't sense anything was wrong. In truth, I was nervous as hell. I knew anything could go wrong and she could turn the gun on me—not that she needed a weapon to kill me. But I had to take a chance. If I didn't do something, I would eventually be killed, and maybe Mariska would be, too. The hours ticked by, and then Mariska finally announced she was going to bed. I gave her plenty of time to fall asleep. I wanted to hurry up and get it over with, but I also never wanted to leave my room again. One of us was going to die that night, and if I failed to kill her, yet she decided not to kill me for some reason, I had no doubt I would wish she had. Just get on your bike, go over there, and pull the trigger. I told myself this over and over as I pedaled up and down the insanely hilly terrain. I couldn't believe how easy it was in the end. I had really expected things to go wrong. Killing a human being couldn't be that easy, even if you knew you were saving yourself. But it had been. I did exactly what I instructed myself to do. I left my bike at the end of her driveway. I walked up to the door, which opened as soon as I approached. I pulled the gun from my coat pocket, and then I pulled the trigger and shot her. I didn't know how many bullets were in the gun; I only knew I emptied it into her to decrease her chances of survival with each round. I ended up putting four bullets into her—one of which I'm pretty sure was a headshot. Another seemed to hit her square in the chest. She began falling back inside after the first shot, and I fired in rapid succession as she hit the floor. I left her bleeding in the entryway and ran for my bike, shoving the pistol back into my coat pocket. I zoomed downhill and stopped a few blocks from the condo. Since I couldn't ride my bike down to the shore, I left it at the start of the sandy area, figuring no one would steal it so late at night. Realizing someone might spot me, but knowing I had no choice, I ran down to the water's edge and tossed the gun as far as I could into the water. The piers were closed at night, and there was no way I could get onto any of them without being seen in order to throw it further from shore. I knew being closer to shore meant it could very well be discovered someday, but I thought it was less likely than if I threw it in a dumpster. It was also winter, which meant nobody would be swimming for a while. This would hopefully give the gun time for currents to carry it further offshore or at least bury it in sand and debris. I had wiped the gun clean of fingerprints beforehand and worn gloves. Even if I left any traces on the gun, I figured the likelihood of ocean elements destroying them by the time it might be discovered was in my favor. My biggest worries were actually Mariska catching me entering the condo once I got back, and my gloves and clothes testing positive for gunpowder, should I fall under suspicion. I didn't know if washing the items would remove traces of residue, and I wasn't about to look up this information online either. I would casually wash my clothes the next day and hope for the best. I ran back to my bike as quickly as I could, relieved to see no one had touched it even though I hadn't expected anyone to, and raced back to the condo as fast as I could despite my pulse beating faster than it ever had before. I felt like I had spent a total of an hour on the bike that night, and I probably had. By the time I got home, I was exhausted and sweaty. I had to wait for my breathing to calm before I could slip into the condo quietly enough, hoping and praying Mariska wouldn't come out of her room to question me. I had an excuse ready, but was glad I didn't have to use it. I crept into my room quietly as a mouse, undressed, and fell into bed. I think I slept better than I had in years that night.