Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

And I shove her head into the mirror as hard as I can,
splintering the glass, and she screams.
“Damon!” she cries out, but I can’t stop.
A wave of euphoria washes over me, and I don’t know why
my cheeks are wet, but my muscles are charged, and I just
want her to fucking die.
I growl, bringing her head down again and again, blood
covering the mirror, and then I haul her up, her body limp and
blood pouring down her face, and I hit her, sending her flying
to the floor.
She coughs and sputters, and tears stream down my face,
but in that moment, I knew.
It would never happen again.
This never had to happen again. I’d kill her if I had to.
Seeing something out of the corner of my eye, I look over
my shoulder, seeing Banks standing there with my headphones
in her hand.
She looks from my mother on the floor—bloody and weak
—to me, her eyes scared.
I rush over, grab her hand, and run from the room. She
doesn’t ask questions as I pull her down the stairs, through the
house, and out the back doors, into the backyard.
The moon casts a glow over the hedge maze, and we dive
in, knowing our way well and finding the fountain
immediately.
We climb in and settle behind the water, just like I had
done a thousand times before, only once with a girl other than
my sister. Banks doesn’t ask me what happened or what I’m
going to do. She knows not to talk in here.
Reaching under the groove of the bowl above us, I dig out
the silver barrette with pink crystals I hide there, and wrap my
fist around it, remembering Winter Ashby’s words from so long
ago in that fountain.
Your body can only feel one pain at a time.