
My Sister, the Serial Killer

I light a candle on my nightstand and hold the paper over the flame until the numbers are swallowed by blackness and fire licks the tips of my fingers.
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
“You cannot take back words, once they’ve been spoken.”
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
I try not to breathe in the pungent smell of perfume and sadness
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
Her shoulders are trembling, but no sound escapes her lips. Did no one tell her it is painful to cry silently?
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
The diamond looks smaller and less impressive without its casing.
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
“Love. What a novel concept.”
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
he has bent his head so low that it threatens to fall off his neck.
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
Her voice is like nails on a blackboard.
Oyinkan Braithwaite • My Sister, the Serial Killer
Instead I count—sheep, ducks, chickens, cows, goats, bush rats and corpses. I count them to oblivion.