The Fake AI Sister Destroyed Me – Three years ago, I left the gas on when I went out, and it killed my sister, Chloe Bennett. Mom and Dad were devastated. They spent every last penny they had to build a realistic robot. Then they uploaded all of Chloe’s voice recordings, chat logs, and habits into it. After that, the robot became a god in our home. And I became the unforgivable killer. Every day, I had to kneel in front of that robot for three hours, repenting for my crime. Every month, Mom and Dad took every cent I earned to maintain the robot, as my penance. Then came Chloe’s birthday. I came home early to surprise my family. But I heard them talking in the living room. “Dad, Mom—how much longer do I have to stay over here? Running this dumb robot from miles away every day is so annoying!” “Baby, don’t rush. Lila’s almost fully broken.
She’s totally consumed by guilt over what she thinks she did.” “Once she’s completely trained to be an obedient, dutiful kid, we’ll bring you home and give her a nice surprise.” Chloe hadn’t died after all. Fine. Then I’ll die in her place. … For three whole years, I’d knelt until my knees developed permanent fluid buildup. I survived on nothing but one day-old loaf of bread every day-. My stomach ulcers never healed, aching constantly as if my insides were being torn apart. I groveled like a stray cur in my own home, not even allowed to buy myself a new pair of socks. I thought I deserved every bit of it. I never imagined it had all been a long, premeditated obedience scheme by my own family. Their conversation in the living room went on. Chloe’s voice blared from the robot’s speakers. “Mom, my graduation gala’s next month. The $100,000 you sent only pays for one dress.
I can’t even get the jewelry I want—people are gonna judge me so hard at schoo!” Mom smiled and soothed her. “Chloe, don’t worry. I’ve got it all planned out. Last month I told Lila your grave’s gonna get dug up if we don’t pay $6,000 to keep it.” ” That poor fool agreed right away, said she’d get the money no matter what. Add that to everything she’s earned working these years, and I’ll send it all to you soon.” Last month. 60,000 dollars. When I heard Chloe’s grave would be moved if I didn’t pay, I panicked. Behind everyone’s back, I turned to an unregulated physical donation clinic. In one month, they gave me six harsh hormone inje//ctions. Eight thick needles had pierced my body before I finally scraped together the mone. By now, my stomach was covered in dense needle marks and huge bruises.
It felt like a boulder weighing down my lower abd0men, every breath tearing at my flesh. And all of it was just to buy Chloe a piece of jewelry for her graduation party. Dad chimed in, sounding pleased. “Chloe, once you graduate, come home. We’ll tell Lila you never died—and won’t she be thrilled?” “You can marry a rich guy and get this family somewhere in life. Lila can stay here and take care of me and your mom when we’re old. We’ll all have it made!” “Got it, Dad! Dylan’s asking me out again. I’m hanging up!” The red light in the robot’s eyes died as Lila cut the connection. Dad took Mom’s hand, full of emotion. “Hon, you were genius. That $300,000 conditioning program was worth every cent.. Lila’s always been weak and easy to twist around our fingers, and now she’s totally under our thumb. Once Chloe comes home, our good life will finally start.” It was true. Ever since I was little, I’d always been the obedient one. When Mom’s cooking tasted terrible, Chloe would slam her silverware and complain. I just ate silently with my head down.
On my birthday, Chloe would go out partying with her friends. But me? I obediently followed Dad’s words, treating my birthday like the day Mom went through labor for me. I used my saved allowance to buy her gifts and eat dinner with her. I thought being good might earn me just a little more love. The joke was on me. My rebellious sister, the family’s hope for climbing the social ladder, had faked her death and been sent to Westbrook to build her credentials. And the obedient me was forced to drop out of high school, branded a killer, forced to atone for a death that never happened. All because my parents wanted a subservient live-in caretaker for their retirement. I clenched my fists so tight my knuckles jutted out pale and sharp against my skin. The flower wreath I’d woven for Chloe slipped from my hand and onto the floor. I stumbled backward uncontrollably, slamming into the cabinet by the door. The conversation in the living room stopped dead. Mom opened the door. “Lila? Why are you home so early?” “Did you finish all three of your jobs already?”