This is a contest entry for Capture That Emotion. My emotion was jealousy and had to have a bit of a twist to it all. Please feel free to correct any grammatical errors that you find. Thanks =] Also! The song that goes with this is called Everything I'm Not, by the Veronicas. check it out, its awesome =]
Dear sister,
By the time you read this, well, I guess you won’t be able to read this. I think I’m just writing this to tell you why I’m about to do what I’m about to do.
You were always the one people wanted. You were the one that people would say ‘she’s going to do some great things when she’s older’ and ‘isn’t she the prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen?’ Even Steven Gloucester loved you more.
Steven told me all about that night. He told me that your skin was slick and your mouth tasted like salt. He said that he pulled out your hair and you bit him. In between sobs he told me that he had hurt you. In between his sobs he attempted to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath. The blood trickled from his nose as I walked out of his garage and down the street to meet mom and dad for dinner.
After he had hurt you, I didn’t know what to do. I was so angry at you that my blood boiled in my veins and every little thing irritated me. I could be sitting in my room flipping through a magazine, and every time the page would catch, I’d scream and hurl something across the room. I constantly kept my jaw clenched and every word that left my mouth was bitter.
Steven Gloucester was supposed to love me. He was supposed to love my body and want to taste my lips. But you got in the way, sister. You shattered all of my dreams of bedding the town trouble maker.
Why couldn’t you just stay away from him? You’d gone over to his house looking for me, he said before he died. But instead you had to go and let him touch you. You had to let him hurt you.
Sister, this letter is almost done. The revolver is on the side table and as I’m writing this I’m flipping through a Cosmo magazine, trying to find something to order out of the catalogue. Should I get the cute red sandals or the bright yellow tank top with crisp yellow stripes?
Mom and dad are downstairs on the couch talking to you about what had happened with you and Steven. I can hear them telling you that it’s not your fault. Bullshit…
Oh! I almost forgot! I didn’t load the gun yet. Just a second.
Ah, that’s better. I love the way that the bullets feel in my palm. It’s like a reassuring weight telling me that everything is going to be better soon.
You’re sobbing downstairs now, I feel like I should throw up. You’re so worthless. You’re worthless for having so many other men wanting to follow you around but instead you take away the one man that I loved. He was mine. So now, dear sister, I’m going to end this letter. We’re going to go out for a walk to clear your mind. And then, this blessed gift from God himself, is going to let me deliver you to him.
XOXO, Your loving sister
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