Karma is a Bitch, And So Am I

The phantom sensation of feral dogs ripping out my throat still burned against my skin. A split second later, the screech of slamming brakes shattered my eardrums.

I was back.

Back to the exact millisecond a ten-ton semi-truck was about to crush our family's adopted perfect princess.

In my past life, I desperately grabbed Preston, stopping him from throwing his life away. After that adopted perfect princess lost her legs and committed suicide, the whole family pinned all the blame on methe biological daughter.

"You cold-blooded freak! What gave you the right to stop me from saving Sienna?!" Preston shattered my kneecaps himself.

My biological parents stepped on my broken legs and dumped me into a crime-ridden slum alleyway to rot.

This time, the massive grill of the semi-truck was inches away. Watching Preston sprint like a madman straight into the driver's blind spot, I barely even pinched his sleeve.

"Preston, don't go!" I widened my eyes, forcing a hyperventilating gasp.

He swatted my hand away like a diseased rat and lunged forward.

The ten-ton tires rolled over him with a sickening crunch. Snap.

Splinters of bone and blood splattered across the hot asphalt. His athletic, prized arms instantly turned into two piles of mangled flesh.

Preston let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Amidst the spreading pool of crimson, I stood perfectly safe behind the curb. A slow smile touched my lips.

Your hands, for her legs.

Go ahead. Enjoy your touching sibling bond to the absolute fullest.

Chapter 1

This time, I didn't waste every ounce of my strength trying to pull Preston back. Instead, I loosely grabbed the fabric of his shirt and screamed in feigned agony. "Preston, don't go!!"

I tried to stop him. But my dear brother obviously wasn't going to listen to me.

He sprinted forward without a second thought, yanking Sienna out of the way. Momentum carried him forward, sending his body slamming onto the pavement as he instinctively threw his arms out to brace for the fall.

He forgot about the ten-ton semi-truck barreling right at him. He was right in the driver's blind spot. Completely invisible.

The massive tires rolled over him without mercy. Accompanying Preston's bloodcurdling shriek, fragments of shattered bone and ruined flesh splattered across the asphalt. His arms were reduced to two unrecognizable, mangled piles of meat.

Sienna froze, the color draining from her lips. My biological father broke down in tears, and my mother collapsed in a dead faint.

I stood there and smiled.

In my past life, Preston lunged forward just like this, desperate to save Sienna. I knew exactly what a semi-truck could doat best, you lose limbs; at worst, you're dead on impact. I didn't want him sacrificing his life or his bright future for that adopted perfect princess, so I gripped him with everything I had.

Unable to break free from my hold, Preston could only watch helplessly as the truck crushed both of Sienna's legs. His neck veins bulged as his eyes turned bloodshot.

Hearing Sienna's agonizing wails, he planted a brutal kick right into my chest, sending me flying across the concrete.

Our biological parents arrived just in time to witness the bloody aftermath and frantically rushed Sienna to the ER. They left me crumpled in the gutter, completely invisible to them. It took a passing stranger with a shred of decency to finally get me to the hospital.

Once there, the doctors announced they had to amputate both of Sienna's legs.

Preston cornered me in the hallway and beat me until I coughed up blood.

Right then and there, tasting copper on my tongue, I regretted ever stopping him from playing the hero.

But there were no do-overs. In the days that followed, a security video of me holding Preston back went viral. Millions of comments cursed me to hell.

I got cyberbullied across Twitter, doxxed with all my private info leaked, and someone even smashed dead rats against my car windshield. In high school, I became public enemy number onemy locker was spray-painted with slut-shaming slurs, and the mean girls physically shoved my head into the toilet bowls in the bathroom.

During that hellish period, Sienna woke up to find an empty space beneath her knees. Realizing she could never dance again and her dream of becoming a prima ballerina was dead, she broke down and committed suicide.

That night, Preston sobbed hysterically. He grabbed an aluminum baseball bat, demanding blood for blood.

He swung the heavy metal bat over and over, personally shattering my leg bones.

He pointed the bloodied tip of the bat right at my face. "You bitch. What gave you the right to stop me from saving Sienna?"

"If it wasn't for you, she wouldn't be crippled. She'd still be alive!"

Tears and snot mixed with the blood streaming down my face. I choked on my own ragged breaths, desperately trying to spit out an explanation.

Chapter 2

"I held you back because I didn't want you throwing your life away for hers! That semi weighed ten tons! He couldn't have stopped in time!"

"If you died under those tires and I did nothing I would've lived with that guilt forever. Why couldn't you see that?!"

Blood vessels strained against his neck as he pointed the bloodied bat at me. "You'd regret it? What about me?! You expect me to just stand there and watch Sienna get crushed?"

"I'm not a sick psychopath like you! I've spoiled her since we were kids."

"You're a cold-blooded freak who never knew what a real family is, so don't you dare pretend to understand our bond!"

My breath caught in my choked throat. He was right.

Right after I was born, Sienna's greedy biological mother secretly swapped us in the private hospital nursery, dumping me into a rundown orphanage in the lower-city slums. When I finally found my way back to this mansion, my parents looked right through me.

To them, I was just trashy, uncultured baggage. They vastly preferred their elegant, perfectly groomed fake daughter. Whenever they threw their lavish parties, I shrank into the shadows, terrified of breathing too loud and ruining their perfect aesthetic.

Of course I couldn't understand their "bond." I was never allowed to be part of it.

A cold, metallic ache hollowed out my chest. But the agony radiating from my shattered legs was far worse.

Preston didn't stop swinging until both my shin bones were completely pulverized.

The front door slammed shut behind him. Dragging my mangled lower half across the hardwood floor, I choked on my own tears, begging my biological parents to call an ambulance.

My mother's diamond-ringed hand slapped across my faceonce, twice, dozens of times.

My father stepped his Italian leather shoe directly onto my open fractures, grinding his heel down. A jagged scream ripped out of my raw throat.

They stared down at me like I was a piece of rotting garbage.

"Who gave you the right to interfere with our family?" my father spat. "If you hadn't stopped Preston, our home wouldn't be shattered!"

"'Protecting your brother'? Bullshit. You were just jealous of Sienna taking your spot. You wanted her dead!"

"We should have left you in the gutters," my mother hissed, adjusting her pearls. "We only have one daughter, and it's Sienna. You venomous little rat, you should be the one going to the grave for her."

They shoved me into the trunk of a car and dumped me in the most crime-infested, grimy alleyway of the slums, leaving me to rot.

As feral dogs ripped the flesh straight off my bones and the sheer agony dragged me into the dark, their words looped in my fading mind.

Those curses branded themselves into my rotting tissue, forging a deep, unshakable hatred.

Now, given a second chance, I learned my lesson. I wouldn't play the "cold-blooded freak" anymore. I was going to fully support their beautiful, toxic family bond.

I was going to let Preston trade his two perfect arms for Sienna's two legs. Let's see how deep that sibling love really runs when Preston's useless stumps can't lift a glass of water, carry a bag, or even wipe his own ass. Let's see how much they love him then.

The pale, trembling truck driver stumbled out of his cab. I scrambled forward, dropping to my knees.

Digging my nails into my thighs to force out hyperventilating sobs, I screamed at the mangled mess on the asphalt, "Preston! Hold on!"

"Stay with me! I already dialed 911, the paramedics are on their way!"

All of Preston's usual arrogant, golden-boy composure was gone. His handsome face twisted into a grotesque mask of sheer agony. Hearing my frantic screaming, Sienna finally snapped out of her shock. She staggered forward, reaching out to check on his bloody stumps.

I shoved her hard in the chest, acting completely hysterical as tears streamed down my face. "Sienna, I know you hate that I moved back! I know you despise sharing the spotlight with me!"

"If it makes you happy, you can hit me, you can curse at meI'll take it all! I'll even pack my bags and leave!"

"But you shouldn't have thrown a childish tantrum and run out into moving traffic just to prove a point! Now look what you did to Preston!"

I gasped for air, making sure my voice carried over the sirens wailing in the distance. "If he doesn't make it, what's going to happen to our family? He's Mom and Dad's only son and heir!"

Sienna opened her mouth to defend herself, but her vocal cords completely gave out. Knocked off balance by my shove, she stumbled backward and crashed hard onto the unforgiving concrete.

Chapter 3

Instantly, sharp gravel sliced into her pale thighs, drawing beads of blood. As a ballerina, her legs were her most prized possession. Normally, if I even breathed too hard in Sienna's direction, my biological parents would have crossed the room to backhand me. But with their golden-boy heir bleeding out on the asphalt, they couldn't care less about her little scratches.

My father had just revived my mother from her faint. They both threw themselves beside Preston's mangled body. "My boy! Hold on, the paramedics are right here!"

My mother's wails were guttural, clawing at her throat like she wanted to absorb his pain. My father's jaw clenched tight, silent tears tracking down his usually stoic face.

Watching this bloody tableau, reality finally seemed to crash into Sienna. She shook her head frantically.

"I didn't mean to hurt him. It was an accident." She scrambled to her feet and reached out for my parents, desperately craving their usual coddling.

Without breaking his gaze from Preston, my father shoved her back onto the concrete. My mother didn't even blink in her direction.

Sirens wailed as the paramedics finally swarmed the scene. When they lifted Preston onto the stretcher, gravity took over.

The last remaining tendons and muscles connecting his arms to his shoulders snapped. The gruesome reality was laid bare.

Seeing the jagged bone protruding from his own shoulder sockets, Preston let out one final, ragged shriek before his eyes rolled back. He passed out cold. My parents scrambled into the back of the ambulance, sobbing uncontrollably. Sienna was left standing alone on the blood-stained pavement.

From my spot by the curb, I watched Sienna stare blankly at her bloodied hands. Her perfectly manicured fingers trembled.

Just as the ambulance doors began to shut, her breath hitched and her pupils dilated. "Mom! Dad! Wait for me!"

She lunged after the moving vehicle. Her heel snapped, and her ankle rolled with a sickening pop, reducing her sprint to a pathetic hobble.

The wind snatched her breathless sobs. Right as the heavy metal doors slammed shut, Sienna tripped and collapsed onto the road.

Through the small rear window, I saw my parents turn their heads away. They didn't even flinch.

In that fleeting second, I saw the exact emotion hardening in their eyes. Blame.

The hospital waiting room smelled like bleach and sterile despair. The lead trauma surgeon walked out and delivered the verdict: Preston's arms were beyond saving. Double amputation at the shoulder. Hearing the news, my mother slumped back into the plastic chair, passing out for the second time today.

By the time Sienna finally limped into the ICU after getting her scrapes bandaged, the surgery was over. Preston lay motionless under the harsh fluorescent lights, hooked up to a dozen monitors.

The most striking detail was the hospital gown. The fabric where his broad shoulders used to taper into muscular arms hung perfectly flat against the mattress. Empty.

The private suite was suffocatingly silent, broken only by the jagged rhythm of my mother's sobbing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Sienna hovering in the doorway. A ghost of a smirk played on my lips. I smoothed my features into a mask of pure, dutiful concern and stepped toward my parents.

"Mom, Dad. You need to eat something. You can't collapse now, Preston needs you." I handed them two overpriced deli sandwiches.

For the first time in eighteen years, they actually looked at me. It was as if they suddenly remembered they had a biological daughtera backup plan when their perfect world shattered.

But their appetites were completely gone. The heir to the family's billion-dollar empire was now a double amputee. The heavy reality of their ruined legacy hung over them like a thick fog.

My mother pushed the sandwich away with trembling fingers. "I can't stomach it. You eat, Vada." My father just stared blankly at the wall and slowly shook his head.

Watching me slide so effortlessly into the role of the caring daughter pushed Sienna over the edge. She took a hesitant step into the room. "Dad? Mom?" Her voice was a fragile whisper.

My parents didn't acknowledge her. They threw a freezing glance at her bandaged legs before turning their backs, drowning in their own grief. The silence in the room suddenly turned toxic.

Sienna stood frozen in the doorway, shifting her weight awkwardly from her good foot to her bandaged one. She gripped the hem of her designer skirt until her knuckles turned white, her lower lip quivering. She was desperately searching their faces for the unconditional forgiveness they usually handed her on a silver platter.

But there was none. She might not have meant to push him into traffic, but right now, her pristine presence was an absolute insult to the empty sleeves resting on that hospital bed.

Chapter 4

Sienna sniffled, instinctively shrinking her shoulders to play the victim, and let out a pathetic whimper. Hearing the noise, my parents' knuckles turned white as they clenched their fists. No sympathy. Nothing.

I watched the meltdown from the corner of the room, my face a mask of polite concern. Weren't they the ones who crucified me for holding Preston back? Didn't they call me a cold-blooded freak for minding my own business?

I thought they were the perfect, unconditionally loving family. Well, their golden boy finally got to play hero just like he wanted. So why the cold shoulder for their precious Sienna?

Turns out, I wasn't the only one at the bottom of the food chain. Their perfect familial love had a strict hierarchy, and Sienna just plummeted to second place. How deliciously ironic.

Sienna cried until her perfect makeup ran down her cheeks, yet she didn't get a single comforting pat from our parents. Her chest heaved with ragged sobs.

"Sienna, don't cry." Preston stirred on the bed. His very first instinct after waking up from a double amputation was to comfort her.

My parents practically tripped over themselves rushing to his side, frantic with worry.

"I'm fine, Mom, Dad. Don't blame Sienna. I chose to save her."

My parents exchanged a heavy, loaded look. I raised an eyebrow from the shadows, grabbing mental popcorn. Preston clearly hadn't processed what two empty sleeves actually meant.

"Preston, it's all my fault. I was so immature," Sienna wept, immediately rushing to his bedside now that her knight in shining armor was awake to defend her.

"Little crybaby, did you get hurt anywhere?" Preston's eyes softened as he scanned her body with ridiculous devotion.

Sienna shook her head.

Wow. Such a beautiful, touching sibling bond. I stood perfectly still, watching the soap opera unfold. They kept at it until midnight, only dragging themselves away because of classes the next morning.

Back at the mansion, Sienna was acutely aware of her new pariah status. She offered a hurried goodnight and practically sprinted up the sweeping staircase.

I, on the other hand, played the dutiful daughter. I had the maid draw warm water and gently massaged my parents' aching foot arches. "Don't overwork yourselves. We'll get through this," I murmured softly.

My parents nodded. Dad actually patted my shoulder. "Yeah, you get some sleep too. The Ivy League early interviews are coming up, don't let us down."

Before today, they couldn't have cared less if I dropped out. I glanced upstairs toward Preston and Sienna's rooms. But then again, with their golden boy ruined and their fake daughter out of favor, it was about time they checked their backup options.

Over the next few days, my parents hired top-tier private nurses to manage Preston. After our school club activities ended, Sienna and I dropped by the VIP ward.

The second Sienna breezed in, she launched into a monologue about high school gossip.

She was oblivious to the way Preston's brow was slick with cold sweat, his legs clamped rigidly together, his face twisting in silent agony.

I recognized that look. He desperately needed to take a leak. But Preston's massive ego wouldn't let him expose such a humiliating, helpless reality in front of his precious Sienna. Since he wanted to play tough, I clamped my mouth shut and watched him squirm.

Sienna kept rambling. "The senior prom is in three weeks! You'll be discharged by then, you can totally come watch!"

Mid-sentence, Preston abruptly rolled off the bed. He had reached his absolute limit.

He bolted for the bathroom. He twisted his torso, frantically trying to unbutton his hospital pants, but he had no hands.

A dark stain bloomed across the front of his pants. A sickeningly warm trickle of urine splashed onto the pristine hospital tiles, pooling around his bare feet. The sharp, acrid stench of ammonia immediately filled the sterile room.

Sienna took a sharp step back. That tiny, subconscious flinch of disgust hit Preston harder than the semi-truck