My sister and I never got along.
She was the pretty one. The smart one. The nice one.
(Well, as nice as a Wicked Witch could be.)
Still, she was my flesh and blood.
All I had.
And now she is dead. Crushed by a little girl from another world.
I shall exact my revenge, as is expected, even though I know I sign my own death warrant.
Yes, even I was told the stories as a child.
You can’t escape fate. I can hear the little ones singing, “Ding Dong the witch is dead.”
I guess that’s my cue.