Millie is snoring. I hate it when she snores. She's like a little pig.

"Hold her nose shut." She whispers to me.

I  go over to her and I hold her little piggy nose shut. She grunts a little and then she stops snoring.

I get back into my bed and stare over at her. We used to be so close. Now there's a big void between us that cannot be described. I'm not even sure how it developed.

She stands in the corner of my bedroom and watches.
She's always watching.
When she isn't watching, she's giving orders.
Sometimes, she goes over to Melissa and talks to her.
She whispers in her ear inaudibly.
She runs her boney fingers over Millie's face.
She can't help herself, she scratches the soft flesh on Millie's face open with her long fingernail.
She grins at me afterwards. I grin back.

"What happened to your face, Melissa?" Mom asks the next morning over breakfast.

I look down at my bowl of oatmeal and smile. I can't help it.

"I woke up like this." Millie explains, gently touching her wound.

"Charles!" Mom yells for my dad.

Dad comes into the kitchen, buttoning his shirt.

"Yes?" He looks up at mom.

"Look at Millie's face!" Mom points to Melissa.

Melissa looks down at her bowl of oatmeal quietly.

"How did that happen?" Dad asks, examining Millie a little closer.

"I must've scratched it in my sleep." Millie says dismissively.

She is sitting at an empty chair at our table, smiling at me proudly.

Our last class before lunch is Physical Education.

Melissa is a slow runner. She always has been one. I wonder what would happen to her if she was being chased and had to run in a real life situation.

She runs after Millie as we do our laps around the field.

I smile to myself, keeping my head down.

Our P.E teacher, Mr Simmons, is yelling for us to run faster. Melissa and a few of the fat kids are two laps behind the rest of us. Millie looks nervous. Maybe she knows that she's being chased. I hope she knows.

A few months ago, when we still lived in Johannesburg, Melissa and I were playing bowling on our Nintendo Wii. Millie was beating me terribly.
"I'm going to kill you!" I told her, stepping up to the TV for my turn. I think about this moment as she walks down the stairs to our next class after lunch in front of me.

"Push her. Push her. If you don't do it I will." She's next to me. Dressed in her worn white button down shirt. That's all she ever wore. She didn't even wear shoes.

I push Millie hard and she falls down.

"Oh my gosh," I say, pretending to be surprised, "Millie, are you okay?"
I touch my hand to my chest to seem extra concerned.

Everyone going down the stairs stops.

"I'm fine, everyone!" Melissa yells, signaling for everyone to keep going as she scoots up against the wall to assess her injuries.

She is smiling at me. I smile back.

That afternoon, when we change out of our school uniforms, I see a bruise in the shape of my hand on Melissa's shoulder blade. I smile to myself. I'm proud of how hard I pushed her.

She's proud of how hard I pushed her. It's strange that she knows so much about me, but I don't even know her name.

"How are you after your fall?" I ask Melissa innocently.
She just shrugs and sits down on her bed, crossing her legs.
"I'm alright." She rakes her fingers through her long black hair.

She sits down by the door and winks at me.

"Get her to take a nap." She says horsely.

"Aren't you tired?" I ask Melissa.
"A little." Millie admits, reclining and sinking down into her pillows.
"Why don't you take a nap?" I suggest.

She is smirking over by the door, her legs crossed in front of her at her ankles.

"Naps are for babies." Melissa laughs.

She frowns at me and shakes her head.

I try harder.

"But you got really, really hurt." Nothing makes Melissa more happy than sympathy and attention.
"I did." Millie agrees. Attention whore.
"Just relax," I say soothingly, "you can copy my homework in the morning."

She winks over at me, her sallow skin moving with her dry lips into a smile.

Melissa yawns a little and closes her eyes. She makes small conversation in a sleepy voice.
"Mister Simmons is a really mean guy." She yawns.
"All P.E teachers are." I say softly as I take the books out of my bag and begin my homework.
"Yeah." Millie sighs. She's quiet for a while, but then she starts snoring. Her irritating, pig like snore echoes through the room.

"Time to have fun."She is standing at my side, pointing to my pencil case. Her legs are bruised and dirty. I shake my head no. I don't want to hurt Millie anymore.

"Have it your way." She sits down on my bed and glares at me.

Dinner is chicken and rice.
Millie eats quickly.
I take my time.
We might look the same, but we're polar opposites on the inside.
I wonder if Melissa understands this or if she believes that the entire world revolves around her.

"How was your day today?" Mom asks Melissa.

"I had a little fall down the stairs, actually." Millie answers.

"Poor darling." Mom smiles sympathetically.

Can't Melissa just do us a favor and choke on a chicken bone? Then we won't have to listen to her drone on and on about herself.

"Good night, Ali." Melissa says as she slips into her bed.

"Good night, Millie." I say, kicking off my flip flops.

She is standing in the corner, watching us. She smiles at me.

A few minutes later, once Millie has started snoring, I go over to her bed and press a pillow into her face. Melissa struggles and struggles.

She stands opposite me, smiling.