The Day My Sister And I Turned Into Wild Beasts __link__ Now

Elara dropped her fork. The clang against the porcelain was the first growl.

When I stood up, my knees were stained brown, my hair was a nest of twigs, and my cheeks were wet with tears I hadn’t felt fall. I looked at my sister. She was standing on a rocky outcropping, chest heaving, a feral grin splitting her face. the day my sister and i turned into wild beasts

We drove to the edge of town, where the suburbs give way to scrubland and the sky opens up like a second chance. We got out of the car. The sun was setting, bleeding orange and violet across the horizon. Elara took off her shoes. I took off my cardigan—the beige one, the “safe” one, the one that made me look harmless. Elara dropped her fork

“You okay?” she asked, her voice still half-snarl. I looked at my sister