When I woke up, I had lost my memory, and the only one beside me was a sister so sweet she was almost too good to be true.
She gave me my medicine on time every day, speaking in the gentlest voice.
“Big brother, get better soon, okay?”
Then I discovered...
The medicine was wriggling maggots, and under certain circumstances, her smile would split open.
And the supposedly beautiful world outside the window revealed its tentacles and flesh once my perception collapsed.
Now she tilts her head and asks me, “Big brother, what version of me... did you see today?”
I clutch the candy she gave me, because only by eating it can I briefly live in a normal world.
And the first rule in the employee handbook reads:
[Never doubt your sister's love]
Even if her love is the biggest lie in the world.