The unconventional sister

My sister, Sarah, came home with her boyfriend, Tom, every single night.

And she never used protection.

When I asked her why, she told me she used the “back door.”

I told her it was delicate and doing that all the time could lead to problems.

I said people are open-minded now, and anyone who truly loved her wouldn’t care if she was a virgin.

Sarah seemed to listen.

Later, after she and Tom broke up, Mom set her up with a rich guy named Chad.

On their wedding night, Chad freaked out because Sarah didn’t bleed.

The story spread like wildfire the next day.

Humiliated, Sarah blamed me for everything.

She shoved my head into scalding hot water, her face contorted with rage.

“It’s all your fault! If I were still a virgin, I’d be a rich housewife, and no one would dare laugh at me!”

Then I woke up.

It was the day Sarah first told me she never used protection.

“Don’t worry, sis, I can’t get pregnant. I always use the back door with Tom,” Sarah said, wiggling her hips.

Looking at her face, a chill ran down my spine.

The memory of boiling water searing my airways flooded back.

It took a lot of effort to calm myself.

“Wow, you’re so skilled,” I finally managed.

Sarah continued sharing her wisdom.

“Seriously, sis, that area can pleasure a guy just as well. Don’t always listen to Mom. It’s the 21st century, live a little!”

“You’re so old-fashioned, that’s why you can’t keep a boyfriend.”

I smiled.

Sarah was so smug because her current boyfriend, Tom, was my ex.

We’d been together for two years, and he dumped me because I didn’t want to have sex before marriage.

Less than three days after our breakup, Tom and Sarah went public.

I only found out they’d been hooking up when I went to Tom’s place to get my stuff.

Sarah went to his apartment every day, and the sounds of their… activities… could be heard all the way from the third floor to the fifth.

Everyone in the building knew.

My first reaction wasn’t anger, but fear of what Mom would do if she found out.

My dad died when we were young, and Mom raised us both on her own.

She was a matchmaker and knew tons of eligible bachelors.

Dealing with these upper-class men, she knew exactly what they looked for in a partner.

A big one was purity.

So, Mom always drilled it into us: dating was fine, premarital sex was not.

She’d say, “Marriage is your second chance at life. These men might say they don’t mind, but they all want a virgin. Don’t cross that line, or I’ll disown you both.”

Walking home from Tom’s, I thought about telling Mom about Sarah.

But when I brought it up, Sarah insisted she was still a virgin because she hadn’t used the “right” way.

It took me a few seconds to process that.

Then I started worrying about her health.

I had some basic medical knowledge, and I knew how fragile that area was. It wasn’t meant for that kind of activity.

I immediately told Sarah about the risks and said, “Someone who truly loves you won’t put you through that, and they won’t care about your virginity. If you want to be intimate, use the right place. If someone actually cares about that hymen thing, we can get it surgically repaired.”

The surgery option intrigued Sarah, and she stopped using the “back door.”

But then she and Tom broke up, and Mom introduced her to Chad.

Even with the surgery, there was no blood on their wedding night.

After the divorce, Sarah blamed me.

Thinking about it, I still offered a cautious, “But using the back door can be harmful and lead to infections, right?”

Sarah winked. “Not if you’re careful. Besides, sis, I think I’m just naturally… gifted. That area produces fluids too.”

2

I knew Tom had fed her that lie.

That area doesn’t normally produce fluids. If it does, it usually means something’s wrong.

This realization gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction.

Feigning envy, I asked, “Is that why Tom likes you even more?”

Meanwhile, I used a burner account to message Tom, offering him adult toys.

He picked a few, paid, and I quickly placed the order at an online store.

As I finished replying to him, Sarah’s phone buzzed. She blushed after glancing at the screen.

Minutes later, she grabbed her purse and headed out. “Sis, I gotta go. Keep this from Mom, okay?”

Sarah didn’t come home that night.

She could barely walk when she returned the next day.

For the next few days, Tom kept ordering toys from me.

The toys got more extreme, and Sarah’s walk got weirder.

I knew this couldn’t last.

And it didn’t.

One Saturday, Sarah pulled me aside. “Sis, I think I tore… down there.”

I feigned composure. “Down where?”

“Down there.” She pulled down her pants. “Can you look? I bled a lot earlier, and it really hurts.”

Fighting back nausea, I looked. It definitely wasn’t normal.

“Sis, should I go to the hospital? I leak when I sneeze now.”

I almost threw up. “The hospital? You want Mom to know about… this?”

Mom was already suspicious about Sarah’s absences.

“Then what do I do?” Sarah panicked.

I rubbed my hands together. “It doesn’t look that bad. Let’s just get some cream from a clinic.”

Sarah was too embarrassed even for a clinic. She ended up buying some medication online and applying it herself.

The medication worked, and Sarah went back to her nightly escapades.

But it was obvious her muscles were looser. There was a distinct smell about her.

Finally, the day arrived.

Mom found a suitable rich guy, Chad, and immediately pushed Sarah to meet him.

“Chad is a catch! Millionaire, educated, and most importantly, clean-living!” Mom gushed, patting Sarah’s leg. “And guess what? His only requirement is a clean girl! Sarah, your lucky day is here!”

Mom was ecstatic, but Sarah was indifferent. “Mom, I don’t want to.”

We both stared at her.

In the last life, she’d jumped at the chance.

“Why not? Sarah, marriage is a second chance! You always complain I haven’t given you good opportunities, and now I’ve found you the perfect match!”

Sarah shrugged. “I have a boyfriend.”

Mom frowned. “Break up with him. Sarah, don’t tell me you disobeyed me and slept with him?”

Sarah’s face paled. “Of course not, Mom! I just… I don’t want to get married yet. Let Amy go on the date.”

Mom looked at me with disdain. “Do you think she’s good enough?”

3

Mom’s words stung.

Because she was a single mother, she was overly strict with us, fearing gossip.

But her strictness wasn’t equal.

She treated me like a criminal and Sarah like a prized possession.

If I didn’t do my homework, she’d rip up my textbooks and throw them away, leaving me to face ridicule at school.

If Sarah skipped her homework, she’d get a mild scolding.

If I broke a dish, I’d kneel outside in the freezing cold all night.

If Sarah broke one, she’d get a slap on the wrist.

I often wondered if I was adopted. I even took a DNA test as an adult.

The results confirmed I was her daughter.

After Sarah pushed me into the boiling water in my past life, I was still clinging to life.

When Mom arrived, she didn’t even look at me. She fussed over Sarah, checking if her hands were burned.

With my last breath, I asked her why she favored Sarah.

She gave me a disgusted look. “I don’t play favorites! You’re just jealous, that’s why you think I’m biased. Sarah never complains.”

I knew the real reason: Sarah was prettier.

Mom always said beauty was an asset. She believed Sarah could marry rich and improve our lives, so she bet everything on Sarah’s marriage prospects.

Despite her reluctance, Mom didn’t force Sarah to go on the date.

But unwilling to let the opportunity go to waste, she sent me to meet Chad.

On the way, she warned, “Don’t mention your past relationships to Chad. You’re already not much to look at; if you talk about your… history… he’ll definitely be turned off.”

Sometimes I wondered if Mom was blind.

Sarah could stay out all night, and Mom assumed she was being a good girl. I came home on time every day, informing her of my whereabouts, yet she still saw me as promiscuous.

Luckily, Chad didn’t seem to mind my looks.

In my past life, I had a negative impression of him because of what happened with Sarah.

But after talking to him this time, I realized he was a decent guy. Polite, well-informed.

Just like Mom said, his only requirement was a chaste partner. This wasn’t unreasonable, especially given his background. He was a catch, and women threw themselves at him. Yet, he remained a virgin. He held himself to high standards, so it wasn’t surprising he had similar expectations for a partner.

We clicked.

We went on a few more dates, and our connection deepened.

After our last date, I started thinking maybe this rebirth wasn’t about revenge, but about setting things right, about me ending up with Chad.

For a moment, I thought marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

But I didn’t expect that after Chad agreed to get engaged to me, Sarah would break up with Tom.

When she saw Chad at our house, she pulled Mom aside for a private conversation.

The next day, Mom told me, “Break up with Chad. Your sister wants to be with him.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. I was stunned. “Doesn’t Sarah have some kind of sick obsession with stealing boyfriends? She took Tom, that garbage human, and now, when Chad and I are about to get engaged, she wants to steal him too? Is she addicted to being a homewrecker?”

Mom slapped me across the face.

“Sarah is your sister! How dare you speak about her like that! I was going to introduce Chad to Sarah in the first place. You’re the one who stole him from her!”

The slap stung, and with it, the last vestiges of love I had for Mom vanished.

I snapped. “Even if that’s true, Chad is my boyfriend now. Let’s see if you can make him fall for Sarah!”

I couldn’t stay in that house another second. I grabbed my bag and ran.

I knew if Sarah wanted Chad, Mom would make it happen.

But I had faith in Chad. He wasn’t like Tom.

I stayed out all day, replaying the events of the day and my past life in my head. Both lives felt incredibly unfair.

I decided that once I was engaged to Chad, I’d move out.

But just a few hours later, before I’d even gone home, Chad called.

“Amy,” he said, “I think we should break up.”

My voice trembled. “Why? Is it because of Sarah?”

There was a long silence. Then Chad admitted, “Amy, you’re smart. You know that guys like me, in this social circle, need a beautiful woman on their arm. You and your sister are otherwise identical, so of course I’m going to choose the more attractive one.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll give you some compensation, but I hope you won’t make a fuss. We can still be friends.”

Friends, my ass.

I hung up and smashed my phone.

After a few deep breaths, the tears came, hot and heavy.

I picked up the pieces of my phone, intending to delete all the pictures of Chad and me.

As I scrolled through them, my eyes widened.

A few minutes later, all my anger and resentment were replaced by a cold, hard resolve.

If everyone was going to screw me over, I’d screw them right back.