That night, she slipped back into our room, wet from the shower, and let her towel drop to the floor. She stood and looked at me as though I was a full length mirror, and she could see herself in me, spread out on my bed with my Chemistry textbook in my lap. I finished the homework an hour ago, but there wasn’t anything else for me to do. I looked at her and she looked at me, until finally she reached out and took my book away. She turned out the lights and turned away from her unmade bed, slipped into mine instead, and I felt her curl herself around me with her limbs like vines. I could feel her breath against my neck and every smooth inch of her body through my pajamas. We lay like that for a long time before I tilted my head and touched my lips to hers. I asked her once, forever ago, if she ever felt bad about killing the girl at the end, for using her up and throwing her away. That, I imagined, was the worst of her life’s promises, not the boys but the girls, the ones who she needed to help her keep on living, forever, and who eventually wore out their usefulness and had to go. ‘No,’ she had told me, unequivocally, like she knew what I was thinking, that maybe if I could win her heart, it wouldn’t have to end that way for me. And that was the truth: I would kill a boy for her every night until I was doddering and old if she would just keep kissing me like that.
the bogy's sister - an original work
Amara Karan as Celile Eliza Bennett as Lora
