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The original was posted on /r/twohottakes by /u/Junior_Duck8089 on 2023-10-07 20:42:45.

So this situation happened December of last year, just before I left for a college program in Orlando. I (female 20) have never gotten along with my younger sister (female 18) who has various mental health issues and a personal vendetta against me I will never fully understand. She hurt me a lot when we were kids, and not in a “sisters hair pulling” kind of way. We’re talking burning me with irons on purpose, trying to hold me under the pool water when my parents weren’t around (she’s a larger girl compared and later on I’ll explain why this is), cutting my hair, cutting me with scissors, ripping heads off my dolls, and even would tell lies about me at school- like how she said I got hit by a bus and died in the 5th grade.

When I was a sophomore the issues between us only got worse and worse. I started trying to stand up for myself more and while my Mother would separate us when things seemed to go too far (because I’ll admit I’m no Angel, I had my share of unkind words and jabs), however when we stayed at my Dad’s it was a much different story. He would go into his room and sleep of get so angry he couldn’t handle it, so he walked away; which would lead to my worst nightmare.

While eating dinner I tried to pause the tv to use the restroom and my sister got mad. I told her not to unpause it until I came back, but she didn’t wait for me and I got upset and called her a bitch. Again, I had my fair share of insults, but never one time had I been violent with her- I’ve only ever put my hands up or ran away.

That day, however, she decided violence would be the only answer to my calling her that as she took the steak knife from her dinner plate and held it to my neck. It was like time froze for me. I don’t even remember to this day when she put it down or how I ended up on the floor- just the smell of the food, the way it felt against my neck, and that she said she wanted to kill me.

I do remember running to tell my Dad, but he was out cold on the couch and so instead I went to bed and put a chair behind my door because I was scared. I actually called 911 but ended up saying it was an accidental dial because I was scared of what they would do to my sister.

The next day my grandmother picked us up and took me to school (my mom homeschooled my sister after finding out she was bullying some girls at her school and stealing money from my grandmother’s fundraiser- she also had kids sign a ‘petition’ to rename me as ‘dumb hoe’ or something) where I had a full on panic attack in the bathroom mirror. I don’t know what caused it. I may sound dramatic but I really only remember bits and pieces of what happened that day to lead me to the counselors’ office, where I spilled everything.

I waited in her office for what felt like a million years when my Mom came in along with a police officer and my grandma (Dad’s Mom).

Two days of sleeping at grandma’s later, we get a call my sister is in a jail cell for the night after attack my mother who recently had stomach surgery and trying to hit her in the stitches. My mom ended up going to the hospital because of the bruising and my sister was trying to claim child abuse after my mother got her to the ground by the back of her neck. She only managed to call 911 because my grandpa lived one house away and heard all the commotion.

She ended up admitting to the officers she didn’t want to kill my mother but she “really really wanted to hurt (my name) because she took my life.” I still don’t know what she meant by that.

Fast forward after various behavioral facilities, ins/outs of public school, and multiple different medication/therapy trials- she and I started to get better during the pandemic, though there was an entire city distance from each other. She still made comments about me and would fly off the handle but she hadn’t been violent in a long time.

Now that you know our history, let’s go back to December: The first incident was when dad dropped a Christmas present she’d gotten her dog and the paper scratched a bit. She waited until he went back to grab more from the house and (with me in the back seat) took his phone, keys, and wallet before trying to speed off and nearly wrecking us into the neighbors fence before my dad jumped infront of the car and started banging on the window. Mind you, her therapist had informed my dad to tell any family of ours to record this kind of behavior: so that’s what I did. I sent it to my Mom to talk to Dad about later (I try to seem involved as little as possible on her mental space).

At Christmas with Mom, I won $200 something bucks in lottery tickets, and she won only $8 which lead to her wishing me dead and leaving without any of the gifts I’d worked to buy her.

And finally, the straw that broke the camels back for me, was when she lunged at me from across the room during presents with my elderly grandmother and so I slammed the Christmas gift in my hand right into her face. She’d seen the video on moms phone while trying to send herself pictures of the day.

Because of this, in the eyes of some, I may deserve it- but I was done. And when she told me she hoped I got assaulted and murdered in Orlando, that she wished I never come home and claimed I’d ruined her life, I was broken. She ran off crying and I chased her into the other room telling her that she should consider me a stranger. As far as she was concerned, I wasn’t family to her anymore and she was dead to me.

I go home today. I have had her blocked on every piece of media or contact possible, I even deleted any pictures of us. I am done with her. And these past 10 months away from her, with no contact, have made me realize just how much better my life is without the anxiety she brings in it.

But now that I’m coming home, my grandmother wants me to apologize even though my sister told her she hates to breath the same air as me, let alone see my face.

Should I apologize and AITA?