The Teacher's Pet

My little sister, Brittany, was always Mom’s favorite. Spoiled rotten since she was a kid, she grew up to be a teacher, but got busted for physically abusing her students. One little girl was so terrified that she jumped out a window. The online outrage was nuclear.

The internet sleuths found our address, and every day we were bombarded with rotten eggs and red paint.

While facing the wrath of the victim's parents and a mob of internet haters, Brittany refused to apologize. Instead, she and Mom hatched a scheme to pin the whole thing on me.

During a shoving match, I tripped and tumbled down the stairs. Brittany played the sweet, forgiving victim, and ended up stealing my life.

But then, I woke up again, back to the moment before she shoved me out the door.

This time, I beat her to it. I pushed her into the crowd.

1.

My eyes snapped open, and I was back. It was the day the victim's family came knocking, along with a horde of angry internet users. The metal security door rattled like it would break off its hinges.

Inside, Brittany was sobbing, her cries mixed with Mom’s whispered “Lord, have mercy.”

I tried to steady my shaky limbs as I went to comfort my distraught mother and sister. The old door sounded like it was about to give way, each thud chipping away at Brittany’s already fragile composure.

Suddenly, she wailed, “Ashley, please! You've always protected me. I can’t face them alone, help me!”

Mom added, “Honey, your sister's a wreck, you have to go out there with her.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Last time, I’d fallen for Brittany’s fake remorse. I’d opened the door, and she'd shoved me into the mob. They were so furious, nobody listened when I tried to explain that I was Ashley, not Brittany. Rotten eggs splattered my face, and I was shoved down the stairs. That was the end for me.

But my consciousness lingered, floating near Mom and Brittany. I watched as my sister stole my identity, taking the settlement money from the victims and using it to get ahead. With an impressive resume and the sympathetic story, Brittany went on to become some education hotshot.

I watched from my cold grave, while the internet only threw out an occasional hateful tweet about my case.

My eyes welled up remembering that ending. I was supposed to be the caring, dependable sister. I turned my tears into a powerful tool.

“Okay, Brit, I’ll be there with you. No matter what, we’ll get through this,” I said, reaching out my hand. “Let’s go, Brit, together.”

My sister stared at my hand, her face pale. She bit her lip and hesitantly grabbed it.

I pulled her toward the door, but she kept nudging me ahead. Just like last time, she was going to use me as a shield.

But I wasn't going to fall for that crap again.

I went along with it, then when I opened the door, I moved to the side and hooked my ankle behind hers.

The moment she stepped onto the porch, Brittany stumbled, went flying out the door, and I slammed it shut behind her.

“What the…!”

Mom shri...