Because of all of the things I do to Renée, most people would say I hate my little sister. I’m here to set the record straight.

I didn’t let Renée’s cat out the back door because I hate her. Muffins is fine. I’ve been feeding him behind the shed.

I don’t flush Renée’s medications before she takes them because I hate her. I was pretty panicked when I thought the toilet was going to clog, though.

I didn’t erase her biology essay because I hate her. She got to see the cute librarian she’s crushing on, anyway.

I didn’t unplug her cell phone before she left the house because I hate her. I unplugged it so that mom and dad wouldn’t be able to call her.

I didn’t use the faulty outlet in the living room because I hate Renée.

I really don’t hate my sister. The fire didn’t kill Renée. Because Renée didn’t have to go back for Muffins. Renée wasn’t sleeping due to her medicine. Renée was at the library, doing her report.

I didn’t let our mom and dad die because I hate my little sister. I did it so that she wouldn’t end up buried in the garden like me.