“Don’t be afraid. I just wanted to see if your wound healed.” I said, grabbing her wrist and touching the scar she made.
Fear flashed in Beatrice’s eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll show you what real pain feels like!”
I twisted my arm.
The sharp crack of bones echoed. A medical senior once taught me this; how to use little force to cause the most pain. It was my first survival lesson.
“Ah!” Beatrice screamed hysterically.
My mother pushed me away hard. “Elena! You’re crazy!”
Beatrice fell into her arms, crying, “Mom... my hand... it’s broken…”
“Beatrice just had surgery! How could you do that to her!” my mother shouted in anger and fear.
Looking at the fake family of three, I suddenly felt happy. In that correctional school, only the strong survived.
They taught me to make bullies suffer more than I did. That night, Beatrice was sent to the hospital with a broken wrist.
The doctor said she was in shock and needed rest and sunshine. So my parents came home and ordered me around.
“Beatrice isn’t well, so she’ll stay in your room. It has the best sunlight for her recovery.”
“Where will I sleep then?”
My mother said without thinking, “The basement storage room can be cleaned and used.”
Five years in the correctional school didn’t get me a windowed room and now I also didn’t get a windowed room in my own house. I looked at them and nodded. “Okay, her health is most important.”
Relief crossed their faces, as if saying, “You’ve grown up.” I turned, a cold smile on my lips. Since they cared for her health, I’d let her get some sun.
That night, I spent all my savings to buy a high-powered medical UV lamp from a secondhand dealer.
I entered the master bedroom that used to be mine. Beatrice was asleep, smiling. I quietly moved the large disinfection lamp to her bedside.
I aimed it at her face, plugged it in and set it for one hour. A strong bluish-purple light filled the room eerily.
When finished, I closed the door and hid in the dark, silently counting like in solitary confinement. One, two, three...
About thirty minutes later, a scream shattered the villa. “Ah! My face! My eyes!”
The whole family woke up, panicked and rushed to Beatrice’s room. She was screaming on the bed, her face red and swollen, covered with tiny blisters.
My dad saw my calm face at the doorway, noticed the blue light by the bed, pointed at me and shouted, “Elena! You did this?!”