01
The first time I began to be afraid of her was when I was seven years old. Once, my mother bought me a pair of shoes I liked very much,
but didn't buy hers.
Thus, when only the two of us were at home, she sprinkled our father's liquor on my new shoes and lit them up.
She failed to put down the bottle in her hand in time, so when the fire broke out,
it climbed into the bottle along with the liquid.
The latter exploded in an instant, and glass splashed in all directions, scraping a thumb-long wound on her arm,
from which, blood kept gushing out.
I was scared out of my wits, but she suddenly stood up and ran to me.
She smiled and pinched my mouth with her bloody hand,
asking, "Kelly, why are you crying?"
She was nine years old that year.
02
What was ridiculous was that nature of hers made her well-suited to studying.
Since she was a top student, my parents allowed her to do whatever she wanted.
As a result, her stubbornness and mania became more and more severe.