Dear Angie.

Chapter Seven

8th June 2007.

Dear Angie,

My hand trembles with anger as I write, and the pen is slippery in my grasp. She burnt everything. EVERYTHING. All my notes, sketches on the Science project. Every idea, every blood, tear, sweat that was written on those papers. Burnt into ashes, into nothing. Burnt into particles of matter that don't matter.

Her fucking excuse was that men should not play God. I DON'T CARE. My work. Gone. I wanted to wring her neck. I wanted to spill her blood. I want to bury her six feet under ground. I want her DEAD.

This isn't rational. I'm almost 16. Two and half more years, then I'll be able to take control of my life. I'll be able to get away from her, and her praying, and her crazy ways. And I'll bring Fiona with me. Ever since Johann, she's been vulnerable to Ma. She's been talking about Moses. Esther. Ruth. I want to pull out my hair.

This has got to end.

I'm scared, Angelissa. I was lucky this time. I took photos and copies of everything Marius and I did for insurance and hid it in my locker, along with notes on Atheism. And you, Angie. You. My dearest companion, the only constant in my life. You. She'll find you, and I can't bear the thought.

I must keep you safe.

Love,

Lia

10th June 2007

Dear Angie,

Marius knows. I swear, Marius knows what happened, and he's angry about it. He sensed something yesterday, during the Science Fair discussion, when I told him that I lost my notes. He knew it was a lie. He was distracted during the entire duration, muttering something under his breath.

Oh Angelissa, I know that it isn't smart to get close to Marius Matari, I know that one day my unwanted affection will spell my doom and I know that Marius is a weakness, but I want him so badly that it hurts. It's so stupid, but sometimes I wonder if he feels the same way, but I know the answer. Marius and I have our differences, but we share common traits. We both pride pride ourselves on being cold, logical and calculative. He isn't stupid enough.

Especially with Claire Duval around. Beautiful, beautiful Claire. I have never before cared about the difference in our looks, because I believed in intellect. But she has both. Brains and beauty. I read my letters to you, and I realise how stupid I sound, and how jealous. I should be thankful to her, for giving me some leverage. I just feel so betrayed.

Emotions. It would be so much more convenient if we didn't have them. They drive me to the brink of insanity.

Love,

Lia.

11th June 2007

Dear Angie,

I've done it.

I've done it. Oh Angie, I've done it and I know I should not have done it to Fiona. But she was too needy, too clingy, too everything. And I feel nothing now, Angelissa. I was filled with such joy only an hour ago, and nothing could stop me from comitting my actions, even if Daddy were here. This house, which used to suffocate me, seems to lighten after having bear witness to my actions, to the blood which I have spilled. I feel free, Angie, and I do not know why.

I sat in the sun on a bench; the animal within me licking the chops of memory; the spiritual side a little drowsed, promising subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to begin.

The sentence stirrs something within me which I have known to be awake for a long, long time. It was inevitable. I know that I should have controlled myself, that there is evil in everyone, a tiny seed of darkness in everyone, and mine has grown to be a tall and sturdy tree. I am Doctor Jekyll, and Mr Hyde prowls within me and demands to be let out.

Fiona knocked on my door, and she demanded that I get on my knees and pray for being a sinner, holding a crucifix. I tried to control my temper, because I know Ma was the one who influenced her, but it was all too much. I let out all these emotions which I have kept bottled up inside me and I killed her. I killed my sister. Our sister.

Even when the light in her eyes had long faded, and her body cold, I still contented myself by arranging her body.

She is now in our living room, held up by piano strings, in a classic ballerina mid spin, wearing a pink gown. She always did have the body of a ballerina, quick and nimble.

What am I thinking, Angie? This is wrong! Ma will be back tomorrow, after her conference, and I do not know what to do. I have lost control of everything, and I hate it. I can't hold myself back, not anymore.

I need my sister.

My real sister, the one who has been by side for years.

I need Claire Duval.

Love,

Emilia

12th June 2007

Dear Angie,

I am sorry for writing to you in the wee hours of the morning. I called Claire, and she came here. You do not know the sweet relief that swept over me as I hugged her. But... Angelissa, I'm not sure If I am well, but as I lead Claire to our living room, and she caught sight of Fiona, she...

She smiled. It was a very proud smile. And then she turned towards me and slapped me on the shoulder, and she whispered, "I knew it."

She went to my kitchen and dialled Marius. Marius Matari, and all I could do was stare at the ground. He came soon enough, and as I opened the door, he gave me a grin that I can only describe as wicked. And he looked different, Angelissa, in skinny jeans, a leather jacket and contacts. He looked very nice. God damn it, I'm not suppose to be writing this.

He strolled into the living room like it was not a big deal, and threw open the door. He stood still for a moment, and there... there was a look of admiration in his eyes. He even took a step back, as if admiring a beautiful art piece. Then he turned to me, and he surveyed me like I was piece of art too. I still remember his words, Angie. You are an artist, Lia.

They took Fiona away, and they whispered the words that I had said to Fiona only a few weeks ago. They said that they would take care of it.

Oh, Angie. What have I done?

Love,

Lia.

Yeah! Am I awesome? Yes I am. Thanks to Char, who made a wonderful sticky note with the words 'Angelissa and Emilia', which really got my mind turning on the relationship between the two of them, one being dead and the other alive. Ah well. What do you think of the relationship between both of them?

Soundtracks:

1)My Boy Build Coffins- Florence And The Machine

2)Bird Song-Florence and The Machine

3)Million dollar man-Lana Del Rey

4)Blinding-Florence And The Machine

For Joycelyn, may our friendship transcend the boundary of time and life. (Uhm... that sounds creepy)

P.S. the line in italics is a line from Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a book I will be referencing to every now and then. After all, aren't we all Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, loves? (creepy once again. Damn it.)