I killed my sister. Thats something that most people cant say.

It was an accident, I
swear, but ever since it happened, no one else seems to think so. I was only 4 years old but ever
since, my parents have stared at me with darkness clouding their vision. Theres always been a
wall between us, and although they would never say it, Im nothing but a burden. Honestly, I
think that theyre afraid of me. They look at me like Im a curse on their perfect family. Like Im

evil. They hate me.

But I was just a kid! Despite what everyone thinks, it really was an accident. And I really
did try to save her. She was two years and I was four. It was Christmas

day. We were running

down the softly carpeted hall in our old fashioned house, clothed in our cute red dresses with
fluffy

white trims. Soft,

slow seasonal music filled the house, filling our little hearts with joy. We
lived in a big, old fashioned mansion. Everything was in dark wood and a fancy carpet covered
the floors. Big chandeliers dangled from

the ceiling and painted portraits hung, their eyes

watching us dance. We skipped to the long, twisted staircase that was strung with holly,
giggling. We were happy, but my sisters mood changed quickly, as a toddlers does. She
grabbed at my bow, screaming that she wanted it.
Want! Want! Mine, mine mine! She screeched, pulling it out of my hair.
STOP! I screamed, Its mine!
We got in a fight, pushing and pulling each others pigtails. We both managed to get to
our feet and I pushed her as hard as I could, thinking that she would fall down, start crying, and
run away, but instead, something terrible happened.
She fell right down the stairs, and didnt stop falling for the entire three floors. I tried to
catch her, but I couldnt. All I could do was watch as she tumbled down each stair, her little

body twisting and curling up in pain. I listened to her as she screamed and never stopped. Until
she did.
Seeing her mangles

lifeless form at the bottom of the stairs, I felt my entire body shut
down. It was like a cold, harsh wind had rushed in through the creaky, old windows, wrapping
me up and taking my mind away from my body. I felt like I was drowning in myself. What had I
done?
My parents ran to their child, lying at the bottom of the stairs. They knelt over her, trying
to find a pulse, and when they didnt, they both looked up at me simultaneously, with the most
terrible look on their faces. I would never be their daughter again.
Ever since that day, the house has been different. I can smell the sorrow dripping down
the walls. Taste it in every breath I take. I feel it on the drab furniture and dark walls, and hear it
in the sobs and quiet whispers. But mainly, I see it. I see it in my parents sunken faces and in the
house, which had once been bright and cheery, but was now dark and drab. Hopeless. It was like
a sky that had been once clear and sunny, but was now black and cloudy.
Today its Christmas. The ten year of anniversary of my poor little sisters death. There
are no decorations this year. Only my parents lame attempt with stockings. You would think
that waking up on Christmas would make anyone excited, but I just feel worse. My parents are
waiting down stairs when I walk down. My dad has his strong, protective arm wrapped around
my mothers frail body. It smells like burnt cookies and my parents are trying to smile at me.
Come for stockings, Tate, my father said, walking towards the front room, practically
dragging my mother.

The three stockings are hung from a sooty old fireplace that hadnt been lit in years. Ten
years. Trying to cheer myself up and get my family and me in the Christmas spirit, I started to try
and jump around.
Me first! I said and took my stocking down, then dumped the contents on the floor. But
when I saw what was inside, I couldnt even pretend to be happy anymore. A soft clatter sounded
through the room. All that came out was an old container of pink chapstick that I had seen
around the house for the past couple years. I knew that it was half used and had little hairs stuck
to the top. An orange with two big bruises and a bit of mold tumbled out. I picked it up and it
squished in my hand. The skin on it was even flaking off. I threw it down and picked up the last
items. A few loose sticks of gum. I opened one and popped it into my mouth. I felt the juices
sink into my tongue and teeth. The gum instantly stuck to my lips when I tried to blow a little
bubble. The flavor was gone instantly, not that it had been good in the first place. I let it drop out
of my mouth.
I stared directly at my parents and said three words in the most deadpan tone I could do.
I hate you.
Tate! My father exclaimed. You take that back!
Fine. I spat. Im sorry that Im such a burden that all you can get me for Christmas is
the three most disgusting things you could find in the house. Thank you so much.
My mother stood up, shaking. You think this is easy for us? Did you even know that
your sister died on this day ten years ago. My baby would have been twelve years old, living a
happy life in a cute little house full of decorations and presents and sweet music if you hadnt
killed her! I understand that you were young, but that just makes it worse. Because even at four

years old, you couldnt even read but you could still muster the evil thoughts to kill your own
little sister.
It was an accident. We got in a fight that I didnt even start and I tried to save her. I
screamed back.
You ruined our family and now you cant even be grateful for the gifts that we give you
from the kindness of our hearts. We feed you and shelter you and keep you in our house and try
to love you even after what you did and you arent even grateful. My mom said, with a glare in
her eyes.
Well now you dont have to anymore, I spat, hate dripping through my words.
With that, I spun around and started to run. I ran right out the door and into the cold
morning. The ground was covered in ice and snow and it couldnt have been more than 10
degrees. I was so angry that I didnt even notice at first. I just kept running, but I was soon too
cold to continue and I collapsed in an alleyway. Thats when I felt the mistake I had made. I was
wearing fuzzy pants that cut off halfway through my shins and a thin pajama shirt. Snow fell
around me, covering the ground in its lovely soft blanket, making the world glisten and shine.
The snow was beautiful, but at that moment it felt deadly.
The first thing I felt was the temperature dropping completely from my hands. I felt all
the blood leave my body and rush to my torso in order to protect my vital organs. My body was
working as hard as it could to save me. My hands got completely numb and I started shivering
violently. I was hyperventilating and I started to get extremely confused. My body felt sluggish
and I could only watch as my skin turned pale and a bit blue. My skin started to swell and

suddenly, I could barely keep my eyes open. I couldnt think. All I could do was sink down into
the snow.
My parents should have reached me by now. I thought that they would have chased right
after me into the snow and taken me home, apologizing the whole way, then making me hot
chocolate and comforting me, assuring me that they loved me, but no one came. The last thought
that I had before closing my eyes forever was how my parents hadnt even followed me out.
****
My body was found the next day, frozen in a fetus position. Ice had crept over my skin
like spiderwebs. My flesh was blue and ice hung from my hair and eyelashes as little icicles. My
clothes were covered in snow and my lips were bright blue. My body was completely stiff.
Snowflakes were sprinkled in my hair in a way that would have been beautiful, under different
circumstances. My parents had lost both of their children on Christmas Day, but all I can think is
that, even so, theyre happier this way.

Literary Device #1: my parents have stared at me with darkness clouding their
vision. Theres always been a wall between us This is a metaphor because theres not
actually darkness or a wall. This adds to the story because it explains how the parents
thought about Tate after what she did.
Literary Device #2: Like Im evil. This is a simile because its saying that its like
Tate is evil but shes not. This shows how her parents feel about her.

Literary Device #3 She was two years and I was four. It was Christmas day. We were
running down the softly carpeted hall in our old fashioned house, clothed in our cute red
dresses with fluffy white trims. Soft, slow seasonal music filled the house, filling our little
hearts with joy. We lived in a big, old fashioned mansion. Everything was in dark wood and a
fancy carpet covered the floors. Big chandeliers hung from the ceiling and painted portraits
hung, their eyes watching us dance. We skipped to the long, twisted staircase that was strung
with holly, giggling. We were happy, but my sisters mood changed quickly, as a toddlers
does. She grabbed at my bow, screaming that she wanted it.
Want! Want! Mine, mine mine! She screeched, pulling it out of my hair.
STOP! I screamed, Its mine!
We got in a fight, pushing and pulling each others pigtails. We both managed to get to
our feet and I pushed her as hard as I could, thinking that she would fall down, start crying,
and run away, but instead, something terrible happened.
She fell right down the stairs, and didnt stop falling for the entire three floors. I tried
to catch her, but I couldnt. All I could do was watch as she tumbled down each stair, her little
body twisting and curling up in pain. I listened to her as she screamed and never stopped.
Until she did.
Seeing her mangles lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs, I felt my entire body shut
down. It was like a cold, harsh wind had rushed through the creaky, old windows, wrapping
me up and taking my mind away from my body. I felt like I was drowning in myself. What had
I done?

My parents ran to their child, lying at the bottom of the stairs. They knelt over her,
trying to find a pulse, and when they didnt, they both looked up at me simultaneously, with
the most terrible look on their faces. I would never be their daughter again. This is a
flashback because its telling the reader about something that already happened. It adds to
the story because it tells the backstory and plot.
Literary Device #4 We were running down the softly carpeted hall in our old
fashioned house, clothed in our cute red dresses with fluffy white trims. Soft, slow seasonal
music filled the house, filling our little hearts with joy. We lived in a big, old fashioned
mansion. Everything was in dark wood and a fancy carpet covered the floors. Big chandeliers
hung from the ceiling and painted portraits hung, their eyes watching us dance. We skipped to
the long, twisted staircase that was strung with holly, giggling. This is imagery because it
describes the event in detail. It adds to the story but making it more realistic for the reader.
Literary Device #5 I felt my entire body shut down. It was like a cold, harsh wind had
rushed through the creaky, old windows, wrapping me up and taking my mind away from my
body. I felt like I was drowning in myself. Similes. They use like to compare two things and
describe how the character was feeling.
Literary device #6 . I can smell the sorrow dripping down the walls. Taste it in every
breath I take. I feel it on the drab furniture and dark walls, and hear it in the sobs and
quiet whispers. But mainly, I see it. I see it in my parents sunken faces and in the house,
which had once been bright and cheery, but was now dark and drab. This is a metaphor
because Tate couldnt actually taste, smell ect all of these things. It explains what Tates life
is like.

Literary Device #7 It was like a sky that had been once clear and sunny, but was
now black and cloudy. Simile because it compares the house and Tates life to a sky using
like and explains what Tates life at home is like.
Literary Device #8 A soft clatter sounded through the room. All that came out was
an old container of pink chapstick that I had seen around the house for the past couple
years. I knew that it was half used and had little hairs stuck to the top. An orange with two
big bruises and a bit of mold tumbled out. I picked it up and it squished in my hand. The
skin on it was even flaking off. I threw it down and picked up the last items. A few loose
sticks of gum. I opened one and popped it into my mouth. I felt the juices sink into my
tongue and teeth. The gum instantly stuck to my lips when I tried to blow and little bubble.
The flavor was gone instantly, not that it had been good in the first place. I let it drop out of
my mouth. This is imagery. It describes Tates gifts in details and shows her disapointment.
Literary Device #9 Thank you so much. This is verbal irony because Tate didnt
actually mean that she was thankful. It adds to the story by showing what Tate was feeling
at the time.
Literary Device #10 hate dripping through my words. This is a metaphor because
the hate wasnt actually dripping. It adds to the story by showing what Tate was feeling
and how she was expressing it to her parents.
Literary Device #11 Snow fell around me, covering the ground in its lovely soft
blanket, making the world glisten and shine. Metaphor because the snow wasnt actually a
blanket. It shows the beauty of the scene in the story.

Literary Device #12 The first thing I felt was the temperature dropping completely
from my hands. I felt all the blood leave my body and rush to my torso in order to protect
my vital organs. My body was working as hard as I could to save me. My hands got
completely numb and I started shivering violently. I was hyperventilating and I started to
get extremely confused. My body felt sluggish and I could only watch and my skin turned
pale and a bit blue. My skin started to swell and suddenly, I could barely keep my eyes
open. I couldnt think. All I could do was sink down into the snow. This is imagery because
it describes whats happening in detail. It adds to the story because it tells about and
explains how Tate is freezing to death outside.
Literary Device #13 Ice had crept over my skin like spiderwebs. Simile because it
compares ice to spiderwebs using like. This adds to the story because it explains what
Tates body looked like when it was found.
Literary Device #14 Ice had crept over my skin like spiderwebs. My skin was blue
and ice hung from my hair and eyelashes as little icicles. My clothes were covered in snow
and my lips were bright blue. My body was completely stiff. Snowflakes were sprinkled in
my hair in a way that would have been beautiful under different circumstances. This is
imagery because it describes the body in high detail. This adds to the story because it
makes it so the reader can practically see the frozen body, making it seem more real.
Lit Device #15 soft, slow seasonal is an alliteration to describe the music being
played
Lit Device #16 painting portraits hung, their eyes watching us dance is personification
because paintings cant really watch.