At exactly five o'clock, I sit to write Ebony's sister a letter but the words don't come. There's no blockage. Everything I want to say is at the tip of my tongue. It's just that they're trying to get through the gate at the same time, and I'm not budging until they simmer down.
Dear Castle Thief,
Your sister's death left a festering wound in my heart. And that's just the half of it. I am never going to get over it; nor will I forget the pain I endured after what you did to me. To say that your betrayal made me come undone is an understatement. What you did was tear my soul out after her death cut the first thread. Then you cut the collar off. And after that, enemies scattered my essence in strange paths; so unfamiliar that no map can guide it back home.
The only thing I had left of Ebony was that castle. And although it wasn't much, those quiet corridors, with their cracked walls, captured her righteous hums. I used to listen to her spin the first webs of soulful songs, the ones they stole before the tragedy. So now I haunt new corridors at night just to hear her voice. But she never comes. Perhaps she's waiting for my childlike steps to make their circuit and recreate our past. Then we'll both be free to enter each other's spirits and truly heal. Or maybe she'll never sing again because you broke those walls down and replaced them with your own version of the perfect family.
And I too leave it unsigned. Now the bottle of pills has my full attention. Should I end on this note or play the whole tune out? Just as I'm trying to decide, someone bangs on my door.
YOU ARE READING
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