Aliyana

"You look beautiful," I say to my sister. She does.

Her skin glows with a happiness I will never feel. The glimmer in her gaze a reflection of crystal spotted in the sun. This is a good thing.

Today is after all her wedding day. My sleeve hides the flecks of blood on my wrist. My gloved hands blinding her and all the out comers of the evidence that is my temper from their accusing watchful sights.

A smile is said to come in different forms and like one may see ...