6:18

005

five
(TW for abuse)

November 17th 2017

Dear Cristina Wylder,
How are you doing? Not sick again I presume. I cannot believe it's been three months since I last saw you. I hope my letters have been reaching you well. As you can see I'm not the best writer. In fact the only thought that comes to my mind right now is that every little thing I do while In this house has to be carefully planned out beforehand. And I know that's not what you had in mind when you moved me to live with father and his new wife, but it's the harsh reality. If I have to go to the washroom, I have to wait until there is nobody on the floor I'm on or wait for someone else to get up too. If I'm finished my lunch I have to pretend to look at things on my phone until people are out of the kitchen. But I can't go right away because then it would look like I was just waiting for them to leave. It's not right. This house is supposed to be my second home but I just feel like an unwelcome houseguest, who has to sneak around as to not disturb the owners. And they're supposed to be my parents! I feel like the worst daughter because they terrify me. For no reason to! They remind me of mannequins, fake smiles, always perfect and clean, never doing wrong. But they just expect so much of me. I don't know why they care though. Father hadn't talked to us in nearly twelve years and now just expects me to be his chum? Ridiculous. Don't get me started on Shelby. 'Your father says to do this!' Or 'your father doesn't like when you do that!' She's the epitome of a blonde movie stepmother. She thinks she's all that too, and pretends mom never existed in the first place. It hurts that dad won't let me just be in grief. He keeps trying to make me forget about her, just because he forgot all of us before.
Why did you send me here Crissie? We were fine the two of us! You're old enough to take care of me! Why'd you force me to endure this? Please come fly out here and rescue me! Take care of your health too.
Your sister, Clara Wylder

Dear Christina Wylder,
My dear sister, you better be reading my letters. I haven't heard back from you once. You must know how miserable I am. I must complain in every letter, and yet not a word. I'm starting to think I don't mean a thing to you. Should I start writing to you once a day? Twice a day? How many letters do I have to send for you to listen to me?
Your sister, Clara Wylder

Letter 45

Dear Cristina Wylder,
Maybe this is all just some sort of joke to you. Maybe you're not the person I thought you were, the one that took care of me when father left us, or mom died, who got a job to pay for rent. Why else would you send me to father and not respond to me? You're a horrible sister right now Crissie. And yet I really miss you. Come rescue me or I swear I'll start writing two letters per day about how horrible my life is. I swear I'll do it.
Your sister, Clara Wylder

Letter 212

Dear Christina Wylder,
I'm so sick of telling you how miserable I am and you not saving me. Why am I still writing to you? I'm just digging myself an even more depressing and miserable pit of despair. I might as well scoop up the stupid dirt and pour it on my head. Father has become more cruel lately, always scolding me and yelling. I think he's finally clued in to the fact that I don't really consider him family, and he's acting accordingly. Please come rescue me or I'll tell you about how horrible my life is or complain even more (if that's even possible).
Your sister, Clara Wylder

Letter 465

Dear Cristina Wylder,
I was right Crissie. He would continue the hitting. He slapped me after school today, something about failing my history test. I think he's just bored and looking for something to do now that Shelby has a job and is away all day. It's not her fault though. She had to get a job after dad lost his back in March.
I wonder if you actually read the letters I send you. Maybe they never even got to you in the first place. Maybe you moved and never redirected your mail. But wouldn't I have gotten a letter back from someone? This feels sort of ridiculous. If you're even out there Crissie... please come rescue me.
Your sister, Clara Wylder

May 1st 2019
Letter 618

Dear Cristina Wylder,
I don't know how much longer I can hold on Crissie. I write dozens of letters a week, mail them out to you, and no response for almost a year and a half. It seems like everywhere I go, everyone's trying to get rid of me. Father hasn't let up with the beatings, I think you know that by now. Or maybe you don't. I don't think it's very likely that you do. Anyway, Shelby knows but she doesn't say anything about it. The beatings force me to wear long sleeve shirts and sweaters, pants, anything to cover up the cuts and giant bruises. He left a huge welt on my stomach last week. It's still purple.
Sometimes I lay in bed at night and imagine a life before mom got sick, before you forced me to move, the three of us in the apartment having family dinners while watching trashy tv shows and mom trying to teach us for the fifteenth time how to knit.
But then I have to wake up again and go to school where I have no friends because all I do now is hide myself from the world. Maybe I should just run away or something. Drop out of high school and get a job at a diner or something. Escape father's control. Maybe I'll do something someday. Who knows Crissie. Who knows.
Your sister, Clara Wylder

May 9th 2019

Dear Clara Wylder,
I send my fond regards to you from the hospital staff of Grant Maher memorial and myself. Your letters had somehow finally reached us through a neighbour at your past place of residence. The neighbour in question wanted to remain anonymous but she had been collecting your mail for over a year now and paying your rent. She wanted me to inform you that she did not read a single letter, only collected it.
I am writing in regard to your last letter, number 618. I've read every letter (apologies on the invasion of privacy), as your neighbour was concerned about the month-long break between letter 617 and 618, so she brought the letters to the hospital where your sister, Cristina Wylder was. As this letter arrives to you, authorities have been alerted on the actions of your father.
But I should get to the point of this letter. Your sister, Cristina Wylder was involved in a 5-car vehicle accident near Wakeford Airport on November 25th 2017, which resulted in life-threatening injuries that had put her into a coma. It is my deepest regret to inform you she had complications earlier this week and was officially announced dead a 2:55 on May 6th 2019. I am deeply sorry I am the one to deliver this heartbreaking news to you. Please see my attached personal email and phone number. I hope to be in touch with you. Hang in there Clara. Help is on the way.
Sincerely, Dr. Mallory Bergson

AN: hey it's me, alerting you that hey, this chapter absolutely sucks, especially compared to my last chapter. That's what you get for writing nonsense at one in the morning. I don't even know if I'll post this. We'll see in the morning. (Eh screw it, I'm gonna post it anyway). I'll try to post a better one next time. Here's a small warning: it's based on something that happened this past week. More on that next chapter.

And the third blood-red, for the lover that tore my heart in two.