The truth is painful, but true... I live with a murderer. I guess it's a good thing I'll be living next to her when we have our own families...just in case.
Sarah has killed another one of her pet fish. Of course, this comes as no surprise to those of us who know Sarah's history of pets; it's quite a rap sheet. Two birds, two hamsters, too many fish, and we all know the cat was her too.
There I was, running on the treadmill and I hear an innocent "Lizzy? Can you come up stairs?" Hmmmm, what could it be this time?
As I walk up the stairs, there Sarah is, standing in her doorway with terror and guilt pasted across her face. She ushers me to the fish bowl and there he was. Tequila, this fish, was floating, lifeless on the water. Just because I'm her sister, I had to rub in the guilt. "Sarah, you should be ashamed with yourself. How many fish will it take for you to realize you just can't handle the responsibility of another life?"
When my fun was over, I followed her to the toilet for the "burial". 
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Hey, tell me what's going on in that head of yours...