The Diary of a Living Little Sister


Day One:

“Neechan, it’s breakfast!”

Her lips — her pink lips glistens from saliva. Her eyelids separate to reveal a majestic brown iris, but that schism is long gone; it was shut in a matter of seconds. She groaned. Her bedroom was pitch black. Till I drew the curtains, pulling sunlight from outside to help me wake my dear sister.

“Ui, later…” She said, which sounds like the purr of a cat. That’s what I liked about my big sister; she reminded me of a cute cat. I would love to cuddle with her, but she would be late not just breakfast but —

“School’s starting soon!”

Yui must be up playing Gitah till midnight again. She was bent on sleeping. Till her stomach growled.

Both of us were at the living room. I had finished my breakfast a while back; the uniform I wore had no crumples and I made sure my ponytail looked good. My cute big sis, on the other hand, jammed a toast between those delicate lips; her brown, ruffled hair clipped with two yellow pins on her left bang — that trademark of hers — covered her ears. She munched down the toast and gulped down the tea I prepared for her. I viewed her actions with the eye of an appreciator of performing arts.

“Are you ready?” I asked, making sure my tone didn’t seem unfriendly or accusatory, “We are going to be late, you know.”

“Ui, wait… I need to get Gitah!” she said, her mouth somehow frozen in that o-shape. She ran back upstairs to her room, grabbed the guitar, returned, and saluted me her mission had been accomplished.

We left school. It was early autumn; the leaves were browning and the wind sang, her melody fluttering between Yui and me. Yui looked perky despite being exhausted. She hummed, “I can’t wait to eat Mugi’s cakes and tea!” Her skipping almost made me remember that scene when Gene Kelly sang in Singin’ in the Rain — both of them sang about their new-founded love.

I was jealous of Mugi-senpai: her smartness; her straight yet long blonde hair; her ability to capture Yui’s hearty appetite. I realized I thought of her as a friendly rival in that way; that made me create a new resolve to better my baking.

But at the same time, I worried for Yui. She ate pastry, it seemed, every time the band played — which was everyday, according to my good friend, Azusa-chan. Mugi might be rich, but from what I’ve heard, the US economy had a nasty cold. And that affected every country including Japan. Shouldn’t she be a bit more thrifty? I’m afraid of Yui being really sad when she realized Mugi-senpai couldn’t bring her delicious cakes.

Day Two:

My hypothesis was correct; the ever-perfect Mugi had to lose her title that deemed her as perfect as Mary Poppins when she couldn’t bring her usual pastry. Only some snacks.

Yui was depressed for the whole dinner last night, not even letting a word once; she only frowned, drooling. I was frightened of a possibility that my dear sister might deteriorate. So I called Azusa to tell me the whole story.

“Tsumugi-senpai –” she said, “she said she couldn’t bring the usual pastry. I didn’t understand much, but she said her house got ‘foreclosured’? What does that mean, Ui? Anyway, they — um, Mugi’s family — raked up a huge debt and needed to fire Mugi’s poor butler. Mugi didn’t feel like baking a cake — or anything. Everyone — Ritsu, Mio, me — except Yui — we all understand. But Yui didn’t. She sobbed. So I scolded her. I told her something like, ‘Tsumugi-senpai is having problems in her family’. And Yui replied, ‘I know — but I want my cakey!’

“She holed herself up in a corner and we could hear her sobbing; Tsumugi-senpai felt bad afterwards. She went to a cake store and bought something for her; it was one of Yui’s favorites: you know, that strawberry shortcake in that shopping alley we like to visit. So Tsumugi-senpai apologized — even bowing her head! — and gave her the cake. But Yui slapped the cake away, then started wailing like a baby. Ui, does this… thing happen with you at your home?”

I answered, “No.” My hands were trembling; the phone shook and the noise from the wavering air pressure level was distinctive. She asked if I was okay and I said some lame excuse. All I knew at that point, inside my heart, was something evil was going to happen. Something unknown, something I couldn’t grasp.

Tomorrow was the start of Golden Week, but the girls wanted to practice. I had an odd feeling inside my body: I wanted to stop Yui from going. But in the end, I rationalized it was just superstition. Nothing to worry about. They’re just going to play some rock music.

Day Three:

Today, I felt like the world had fallen apart into pieces of shrapnel. Nodoka-senpai shouldn’t have come. I could see that face of Yui-neechan when I —

I don’t want to remember.

Day Four:

My parents returned after their vacation to Paris. How do I explain to them that Yui is something else? They’re asking me tough questions like where Yui was; I gave them a terrible answer, something along the lines of “she’s training in summer camp.”

Day Five:

Thank goodness, my parents were travelling to Canada tomorrow! I was relieved.

I met up with the band members that survived my sister’s attack: Mio and Tsumugi. We needed to plan a way out before matters got worse. The school faculty were already questioning the disappearance of the ‘dead’ members and the band’s counselor.

We all ate at the fast food place that cannot be named (due to copyright). After ordering our food, we sat at a table far from people. Tsumugi reached out for her French fries and I could see her bruised hands; her hands had meshes of purple everywhere. The gloves were beside the Coke drink. “I used them at the house,” she said, “I don’t think I can eat French fries with gloves, right?”

Despite her attempt at instilling humor, we were still gloomy. Mio’s waterfall of tears fell to her French fries, making them soggy. “S-Sorry.”, she said and got herself a tissue paper.

“My sister and the girls — they’re still there, right?” I had to start up the conversation. The atmosphere around us wanted to suffocate us in that disturbing memory.

“Yes,” Tsumugi went back to her serious mode and continued, “they’re still walking. At the club room.”

“Is — is what Mugi — her idea — the only way?” Mio asked, quivering, “I — I mean, isn’t it like committing murder? They’re — they’re still alive, right?”

Everyone went back into silence. But I made a statement, “Yes, but they are not us. They’re something else.”

I didn’t order anything — I felt sick of food — and looked at the survivors. I remembered saving them unwittingly: their eyes were bloodshot, their hair disgruntled. I remembered the smell of puke and my mental thoughts of a mentally disturbed prey, crying inside me, “Let me be! I just want to die!”

“It’s all my fault,” I cried, “I should have done something about my sis! I should have figured that something was wrong with her — I love my sis; I know everything about her! Why didn’t I do something about it?”

Mio said, “No one expected it. It’s alright; we’ll have to end it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Everyone dreaded tomorrow. It would be the last time we would be seeing them again.

Mugi left the restaurant to prepare. Mio walked me home and asked if she could stay with me; she didn’t want to meet her parents. She already wrote a letter and hid in her room; her bass guitar was with her.

“I’ll miss my mama and you and Mugi will do too,” she said, “but we have to leave, right?” I asked where she left her luggage and she replied that it’s at Mugi’s place. Mugi arranged for us to leave to Poland; she bought us a nice mansion for us to recuperate and maybe live there forever…

Day Six:

Everyone approached the club room. Mugi had her secret weapon while Mio and I had a baseball bat each. Every step we took, the more anxious we got. Were our hearts pacing? We didn’t know, but we felt exhausted reaching the room. We could hear groans and feet sliding; someone tripped over an electric guitar on overdrive and it gave a loud twang sound.

We took away the chairs and tables blocking the door.

“Are you ready, Tsumugi-senpai, Mio-senpai?”

“Yes.” Both of them said, ready to fight.

My left hand was on the door handle while my right hand gripped the baseball bat. My intention was to open the door and immediately swing so everybody could get inside the room, leave the secret weapon there, and flee from the room as soon as possible.

One last breath.

Then, I opened the door. There they were: Azusa, Ritsu, Sawako, and my sister. All were feasting over the bones of Nodoka. Her shattered glasses was still on the floor as we left her. Sawako-sensei’s hand had a giant chunk of her flesh cut off — it was three days ago; Yui munched it.

I remembered Nodoka shouting to me, “Run for your lives!”

Mugi whispered to my ear, “They’re still eating. We could leave the cake box here right now.” She wanted to end it quickly, noticing I was holding up my tears and my body shaking. She placed the box of cake on the table.

Everyone stepped outside except me.

“I should have found out something was wrong with Yui. She ate so much, but never gained weight. Something was wrong.”

Mio dragged me away and I struggled. I wanted to be with Yui. The door closed. I heard their screaming; they ate the poisoned cake. No doubt about it…

Day Seven:

I’m now writing on the plane trip. The girls are sleeping. I have to finish up my thoughts on that dreadful day and leave this diary alone. Until somebody needs it.

I could have said my sister was a zombie, but I don’t think it is an accurate way to define it. She was still alive, not dead-alive or whatever you call the zombies’ state.

Her metabolism was always superb — almost too good to be true. Everything she ate was of no dire consequences to her; the doctors told me that her digestive juices were so acidic that it obtained few carbohydrates and fats. Which means she was always hungry. The doctors said something was odd with her, but our parents figured she was just hungry.

Her love for food was of course not a problem for a while. I gave her ice cream while Mugi brought cakes.

However, when Mugi went broke, she couldn’t bring a cake. Yui became mad at this point,

Now that I think of it, her mouth was always drooling. Kinda like dog rabies. But when humans contracted it, they wouldn’t drool — they would just be paranoid and die afterwards; they never drool. This ‘rabies’ seems to infect still alive people (Nodoka was dead before the virus went through, I think) and that was why they reacted to the cake. How did she get infected by it?

I don’t know.

I do know on the third day, this virus and her insanity became horrifying. I remembered going to the club room, hiding a cake inside my bag. I baked a strawberry shortcake for her and put it on a nice box. I thought to myself, she would love the cake; it took me a while to prepare and bake; she’ll appreciate my baking.

But as I opened the door, I saw Yui gnawing a chunk of Azusa’s arm off.


Azusa screamed in pain as Yui’s saliva drooled in her face. Her pupils dilated. Nodoka and Sawako-sensei, who sat on the chairs beside them and were the supervisors, gaped. Ritsu, at her drums, was shocked; Mio and Mugi came out of the storage room, the keys jingling in their pockets. They saw this horrifying scene and shrieked.

“H-Help me!” Azusa screamed.

Sawako-sensei tried to pull Yui off, but she slipped and her head knocked on the wall. She bled a bit and her eyes closed. Yui, sensing a new, unconscious victim, leapt to Sawako and bit her hand off. Azusa’s iris went up and she had a fit, her body going through a random amount of spasms. The floor vibrated. I puked, vomit splashing to the floor.

But nobody was here to help us.

Ritsu brought her drum sticks and smacked Yui on the head. She cried, “Stop! Stop! Please!”, but no matter the amount of force she put in, Yui wouldn’t budge; my sister went for Sawako’s neck as I heard her groaning in an indescribable language.

Azusa stopped moving and then stood up. She opened her eyes; her iris disappeared and her eyeballs were ghostly white. She started drooling. Then, she saw Nodoka and leapt for her; her glasses fell onto the floor, shattered. Nodoka screamed, “Run for your lives. Gyaaaa!” Her right cheek was eaten off; a large hole replaced it and I could see through her mouth; her tongue wiggled. I wanted to faint.

Yui stopped eating and finally turned her head upwards to Ritsu. Ritsu screamed and hit Yui’s head as hard as she could, but the drum sticks snapped. Sawako-sensei opened her eyes and stared at Ritsu too, her lips smiling with saliva falling from her face. Ritsu wanted to scream and run, but she couldn’t. She was easy prey for Yui, who nibbled on her shoulders.

I had to run away from them. I saw Mugi and Mio and grabbed their hands, dropping my bag. The door jammed and we couldn’t get out. All of us cried.

Then, during in the midst of chaos, Yui found my bag. She unzipped it and found my cake. She had her ditzy voice back, screaming, “Cakey!” Then, she gobbled it all up. The others also went to the cake and ate it up. Nodoka, who should have been one of them, had too much of her body parts gone to be revived.

We found out we had enough time to get out of the room. The three of us tackled the door open, closed the door, and locked it (thank goodness Mugi had the key!). They were now locked and as a precaution, we stacked some chairs and tables to block their escape route.

The three of us, Mio, Mugi, and me — all of us lived for some reason only known to the gods.

The cake was filled with every type of medicinal drug Mugi could have her hands on. Before flying, we saw a small segment on the news about the girls. The newsmen verified their deaths, our notes of disappearances, and more. My family doctor was interviewed; our parents were called; and fellow students and teachers grieved.

We were all called insane, but we saw what really happened. Nobody could track us down; Mugi used her connections well. There wasn’t a point to go onto a show and be called mentally deranged murderers. They wouldn’t believe us. It’s better for us to live in a place no one could find us.

On the plane, I asked the stewardess for a glass of water. When she left, I saw a fat child sitting across the aisle; he was being pampered by her mother: eating chocolate ice cream after chocolate ice cream. He gobbled it up like an animal.

Like my sister eating a human arm.

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About Kastel

My panache feels very hard.

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