Dear Angie.

Chapter Two

 31st April 2007

Dear Angie, 

I hate to admit it, but there is a strange feeling that chokes my throat and lies at the bottom of my stomach. I don't like it. It makes everything seem so out of control. I try not to think about it, but the more I try, the more the emotions hit me hard. It's been so long since I've ever felt something so.... human. 

I'm jealous, Angie, of some girl I barely know. Claire and I try to talk as much as we can over the phone, but it seems like she has already found my replacement, in the form of Anita Sommers. We knew each other back in grade school briefly. She had huge front teeth, and braces, and a crazy mop of hair. But it's been years since I last saw her. Perhaps she looks beautiful. Maybe she has perfect teeth and some perfect body. I don't know. I hope not.

Anita Sommers. The name strikes such revulsion and hate in me that I am almost scared. I know that I should be happy for Claire, but I can't. I've tried so hard. I don't know what to do. I don't want to admit it to Claire, and I sure as hell don't want to feel whatever it is that I am feeling. I know she knows that something is wrong, and she's trying so hard to find out. 

I'm not taking any of her calls. Maybe she'll stop calling and e-mailing. I hope so. 

I don't like it Angelissa, and I know that I better reign in my emotions before school begins in two weeks. 

Love, 

Lia

5th May 2007 

Dear Angie, 

I can't get Claire out of my mind. I want to ask someone for advice, but I have no one to talk to. I feel so suffocated at home, like I'm a bird trapped in an iron cage, with no way to get out. Ma's whispered and hushed prayers resound from her room, and at times I feel like they are buckets of water, and I am drowning. Fiona locks herself in her room and puts on loud rock music, and she brings home strange boys, but it is me who Ma watches and controls. 

Sometimes, she makes me kneel and pray. I don't want to tell her I lost my faith in God when Daddy died. I don't like Mother, and I can't stand her but she is one of the two things that Father left behind. 

She mocks me. She doesn't like it when I question her, she doesn't like it when I don't agree. She cannot accept anything that goes against the Bible, especially the gays. I see the way she eyes them. And I suppose that because is these factors, there is a deeply rooted resentment in me. She is the only thing that I both fear and hate. I hate that I still have to take care of her when I grow older. I hate the way she talks. 

Which brings me to my next point. I had a night- no, I will no call it that. A nightmare is something which evokes fear. My dream was of pure ecstasy. The dream left me feeling so guilty, yet oh so satisfied. It makes me want to scrub the dark sin from my skin, but yet I know that I want that dream to happen again. 

Nightmare:

I am in my room, reading a book. My eyes are fixed a single line, and I reread the line over and over again. 'There comes and end to all things, the most capacious measure is filled at last; and the brief condescion to evil finally destroyed my soul'. The lines are familiar, but I cannot place where I have read them, Angie. 

Ma opens my door, and glides in like a phantom. I look up from my book, and I see the rosary clutched in her hands. "Come and pray with me, Emilia," there is no room for argument in her voice, so I do what I am told. We kneel on the cold wooden floors, and Ma begins praying.

Time drones by as she chants,and my attention drifts away, until I hear my name uttered. "....and dear Lord, please let me forgive my daughter. The blood of Kian is on her hands." 

I am shocked, and my eyes fly open. Her hand grips my arm tightly, like the claws of an eagle. "I didn't kill Daddy, Ma!" I exclaim, but she does not answer, and continues with her prayers. "This is a test which I am to pass, but I need your strength to do as you want me to. Amen." 

She finally let goes of my arm, eyeing me disgustedly. "Do not interrupt the prayers." 

My blood is nearing boiling point, and the next few words that fly out of my mouth cause a resounding smack. "Guess what, Ma? I'm Atheist." 

My cheek is red, and the stinging pain makes me see red. "What did you say?" 

"I said that I'm Atheist," I yell. "Oh, and by the way, I had sex with Caroline Smith when I was in 9th grade," I smile, even as she hits me repeatedly, until I can taste blood.

"Disgusting. You are not mine. You are an abomination, Emilia. You never were. Even when you were younger, you were a sickly pale creature."

I clench my fists, but I still put on a cheery grin. "She took my virginity, and it felt oh so good. I even came back for seconds. I must say, I generally prefer a girl in my bed to a man. Not that Matt was any bad-" 

She smacks me, and I know that there is another bruise on my face. She pushed me down, trying to get me to kneel, but I've had enough. There is a pair of scissors glinting on my table, and I wriggle away from her and reach for the scissors. I turn, and I see fear flash on her face. 

"Emilia, what are you doing?" her tone has change, and it almost sounds like a plead. 

I can feel the adrenaline rush in my veins as the knife plunges itself into her hot and warm body. Her screams are loud and high pitched, but I don't care. The strange ecstacy took over me, until her screams eventually grow weaker.... until they stop. 

The blood is sticky on my hands, as I drop the knife on the floor. Her eyes are faced towards the ceiling, and an idea pops into my mind. 

I smile as I move towards her body, whistling. 

As I write, my hand trembles, and I am not sure why. I did have sex with Caroline Smith, and I did enjoy it, but I did it all to spite Ma. I feel so guilty.

I can't concentrate anymore. I need help. Something is happening to me. 

Love, 

Lia 

For Sarah Khoo.