The Sister-in-Law Under My Roof

CW: Abuse, mental health, murder

Original Post User: Happy_Xixi99

Subject: My husband’s sister moved in and she won’t leave him alone. I’m at my wits' end.

Hey everyone, I’m typing this with shaking hands. I really need to vent before I lose it. Recently, my husband’s younger sister moved into our small apartment, and the atmosphere has become suffocating. Her behavior is beyond "close"—it’s pathological. She is constantly clinging to him, and they share an intimacy that feels like a slap in my face. At every meal, she refuses to pick up a utensil; my husband sits there, patiently hand-feeding her, while she stares at him with a demanding, vacant look. It’s like I’ve been replaced by a grown woman who acts like a parasite. Any time I try to get a moment alone with my husband, she throws a violent tantrum. I’m a stranger in my own home.

Edit 1: I forgot to mention the worst part. She even makes him go into the bathroom with her. I hear the water running, the low murmurs... it’s sick. What legal grounds do I have to kick her out? My husband just says I'm being "unsupportive."

Floor 1: This is insane. A sister-in-law behaving like that? Is she five?

Floor 2: First time reading something this creepy on this sub. Following. Floor 3: OP, how long has this been going on? Has she always been like this?

Floor 4 (OP): She’s been here for two months. My in-laws were here for the first few weeks to "settle her in." The whole family revolves around her. They look at her with such blinding joy, like she’s a miracle sent from heaven, while they look at me like I’m a piece of furniture collecting dust.

Floor 5: That sounds like a cult, honestly. Get out while you can.

Floor 8: Maybe the in-laws are using her to drive you out? It’s a classic tactic in toxic families.

Floor 10 (OP): That’s the thing—my mother-in-law used to be so sweet to me. She treated me like her own daughter, especially when I was "sick" a few months ago. But ever since this woman arrived, everything changed.

Floor 12 (OP): You guys don't understand. She’s always wearing these oversized, footed onesies and lacy bonnets that hide her face. She doesn't talk; she just sucks her thumb and makes these wet, gurgling noises at my husband. It makes my skin crawl. If I even sit on the same sofa, she starts flailing her limbs and screaming until my husband picks her up to "soothe" her. The sight of her head resting on his shoulder makes me want to scream.

Edit 2: The Wheel of Fate User: Happy_Xixi99

The heat in XX City is unbearable today—35°C and the humidity makes the air feel like wet wool. To cope, I bought a "Wheel of Fate" online. I needed something else to make decisions for me because my brain feels like it's melting. Tonight, I asked the wheel: Should I put something in her food? I spun it. The clicking sound felt like a countdown. It landed on: DISAPPEAR.

Floor 23 (OP): I AM FUMING. I just walked in on my husband giving her a bath. She was sitting naked in a plastic tub in the middle of our bathroom, and he was gently sponging her down with such tenderness it broke my heart. When I confronted him, he didn't even look ashamed. He yelled at me! He called me "delusional" and "cruel," saying she’s just a "child" who can't care for herself. She’s in her twenties! Does he think I’m blind?!

Floor 28: Wait, OP... "a child"? Is she physically disabled or something? You might be misinterpreting his care for her.

Floor 32 (OP): Her intelligence is fine! She’s a "green tea" manipulator. Every night at 3:00 AM, she starts this piercing, rhythmic wailing in the next room. It’s a performance. My husband rushes to her side every single time, leaving me alone in our cold bed. She is malicious. She is trying to steal my life.

Floor 37 (OP): I went to the market today. I bought a bottle of industrial rat poison. The wheel told me what to do. It’s either her or me. I’m going to mix it into the soup she loves so much.

Edit 3: The Curse User: Happy_Xixi99

The plan failed. Everything is going wrong. As I was standing in the kitchen, a stabbing pain hit my lower abdomen—a searing, contracting agony that forced me to my knees. Then came the humiliation. The front of my shirt was suddenly soaked, a warm, heavy dampness spreading over my chest. It’s 35°C, but this wasn't sweat. It smelled sickly sweet, like curdled milk and iron. I feel like I’m being cursed from the inside out. My mother-in-law found me on the floor and looked at me with such pity it felt like a dagger. She told me to take a hot shower and rest. She took over the cooking, so I lost my chance. I’m trapped in my bedroom, listening to them laugh in the dining room.

Floor 55: OP, seriously, go to a doctor. Abdominal pain and chest leakage? That sounds like...

Floor 59 (OP): I found proof of her "dark pact." I found a document in my husband’s drawer today. It’s a certificate with tiny, shriveled, ink-stained footprints on it. It’s the contract she used to bind him to her! He hides it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Floor 65 (OP): My husband just walked in carrying her. He looked at me—truly looked at me for the first time in weeks—and said, "Look at her, Jiusheng. She has your eyes. She looks just like you." I wanted to vomit. How dare he compare that creature to me? He’s trying to erase my identity and give it to her.

The Final Update User: Happy_Xixi99

It’s 2:00 AM. The house is silent, except for the hum of the air conditioner struggling against the heat. They are finally asleep. I just crept into her room. I pulled back the heavy, velvet blankets. She looked so small, huddled there like a fragile, skinless monkey. I felt no pity, only a cold, hard resolve. I am taking her to the balcony. The Wheel of Fate demanded a disappearance.

Floor 70: OP, STOP! Read what you’ve written! You just had a baby two months ago! The "contract" is a birth certificate. The "leakage" is your milk. The "sister" is your own daughter! You are in a postpartum psychosis! PLEASE, SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!

Floor 74 (OP): You’re all liars! I don’t have a daughter! My body is mine, not a vessel! I’m at the railing now. The XX City night is dark and heavy. If I let go, the "sister" goes away, and my husband will be mine again. I’m doing this for us, my love. I'm saving you from the intruder.

Floor 86: This is a neighbor from the building. The police and an ambulance just arrived. It’s a massacre. A woman and a two-month-old infant were found on the pavement below. Neither survived the fall. The husband is being sedated by paramedics; he’s screaming names I can’t recognize.

Floor 89: This is the most tragic thing I’ve ever read. Postpartum depression is a monster that lives in the shadows. Rest in peace, little one.