My Sister Lilly

I still remember that day, even though it was so long ago. I remember the lies. I remember the betrayal and most of all, I remember the guilt.

It was 46 years ago, in the year 1969. Most people remember that year by the moon landing and the Beatles; however I remember it as one of the darkest years of my childhood, filled with death and sorrow.

My sister and I were always close, ever since she was born. You know how you always have one sibling who you're not afraid to tell anything to, even if you were on drugs or something like that; well we were exactly like that. Every day we would spend our time playing stuck in the mud or forty forty it by ourselves, which was a little hard but we managed.

Lilly was one year younger than me but she acted about three years older; her face was always plastered in makeup and she always wore nothing but the latest fashion, as for me I just dumped on any clothes I could find on my messy bedroom floor.

If I'm correct, it was a Monday morning. The entire city was encased in a cloud, as if the sky was a giant piece of glass and someone was running a mile long bath. Birds fled the sky like a snake after its prey.

When I woke up that morning, it felt like a normal day. I leaped out of bed and dumped on my school uniform: which was a ruler straight black skirt and a chalk white polo shirt. It was 8:52. There was no time for breakfast so I grabbed a hot crossed bun (which my mother made), said goodbye and raced to school like I was being chased by some psycho.

Mr Jepson sat down in his silver seat. It was time for the news. He switched on the radio, it looked really expensive: It was a ruby red leather radio with an antenna and a dial where you can change the radio station to one of the five channels. The moment he turned it on, a man with a nasal voice began to speak,

"Hello and welcome to the news. This morning a young girl of age fourteen has been found dead behind the local library. The victim is too injured to identify however the police have concluded that she had long blond hair and was wearing the Stockton House school uniform".

Wow. Her family must be really upset; I know I would be if they found my sister behind that library.

Later that day, I arrived home and galloped up to my sister's room. She was gone! "George! Where's Lilly?" my brother stumbled up the stairs; he had a black eye and what looked like a broken arm. He could barely speak, "Haven't you heard the news?" "No" I replied feeling queasy,

"Lilly's dead!"
My head was spinning. She can't be dead! Not after all these years! Tears filled my eyes like a river was flowing through them. Lilly was my sister and my best friend, what would I do without her?

Just when things couldn't get any worse my brother opened his mouth and said, "The same person who killed Lilly just went after me! They're after us Silvia! You need to get out of here, or they'll go after you too" "I'm not leaving without you!" I replied, but then I realised he was right; if we both leave then the killer will follow us no matter how far away we go. Anger filled me. They can mess with me, but they can't mess with my family!

Panicking, I scanned my sister's room. Nothing seemed unusual. Oh wait; there was a small envelope on her bed with the initials LH marked in gold handwriting. I ripped open the envelope as fast as I could to find a chalk white letter written in scruffy handwriting:

Lilly,
Meet me outside the library at 9:00pm sharp
From,
E.G

Who was E.G? Why would they send Lilly a letter the night she died? Whoever E.G is, they must have something to do with her death. In an instant, I grabbed a piece of paper and began to write a letter copying the address on the back of the envelope that was sent to Lilly:

To E.G,
It's me, Lilly. I'm still alive, the body the police
Found was a dummy. I'm scared. Can we meet
up at 7:00pm by the library.
From,
Lilly

That night at 7:00pm sharp I waited outside the library dressed in her favourite coat (with a hood to protect my identity). No-one showed up. The icy wind slapped my face and the frost numbed my fingers. Maybe E.G didn't get the letter in time. Or maybe E.G knows it's all a scam. I waited for half an hour, then gave up and began to walk back home.

Wait! Standing directly in front of me was a man in a grey hoody and jeans; I couldn't see his face as the hood covered it completely. He looked me up and down, "you shouldn't have come back here Lilly, not after last time". He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. I panicked. Not knowing what to do. I leaned forward and kicked the gun out of his hand. I snatched the gun off the floor and pointed it at his head. "Take off the hood!" I screamed realising that if I hadn't have done that I would be lying on the floor, dead like my sister. He slowly lifted off the grey hood fastened to his head. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was George.

Anger filled me like a raging river, crushing each rock that gets in the way. George. George my older brother killed my sister and attempted to kill me. Anger filled, I pointed the gun at the top of his head and fired. Within a few seconds George was dead.

Sometimes people ask me if I have any siblings; my response must always remain the same: "I used to have a brother and a sister, however both of them died in a car accident". If I was to tell them that my sister was murdered by my brother and my brother was killed by me, then everything would be complicated. No-one will ever know my true identity but at least you will know the real story of how my sister Lilly died at the hands of my brother George Hamilton.