Dear Klaus,

I wish you'd stop looking at me.

You think you can crack me with those eyes and pretend you understand what I've been through. But I'm not a little girl anymore; you turned your head away from me the second you realized I would grow up to look like her. Why did you bother always standing by my side? I knew you weren't really there.

Yet apparently you've figured it out, somehow, with those eyes you're trying to crack me with. But they won't work. You've already come this far – why would I kill the life that's finally emerged again by just telling you?

Violet's gone.

Well thanks for clarifying. Thanks for the reminder. Thanks for trying to bring back the dead. Or will you blame that on me, for I did grow up to look like her. You noticed that from the start, didn't you? Violet was buried, and I became the walking dead.

And Quigley?

What about him? Why do you bring him up? He has two other siblings. Don't you want to ask about them? But you see me squirm and shiver and your eyes shine a little brighter as mine fall to the floor because maybe I've cracked; just a tad; just a faint line appearing under pressure.

But don't get too hopeful. You don't know who I am anymore. I'll have you know I'm more than an egg.

Some things just happen, you know?

It's like a domino effect. One domino hits another until they all fall in a line. Then they hit a mountain and there's an avalanche. Don't you see, you blind fool, don't you see all that you've missed? But you don't, of course, because you were too distracted by pretty dominos to notice the disaster happening right in front of your eyes.

I'm the result of the avalanche, Klaus. Look at me! But I know you only see Violet.

Buy better glasses, you moron.

Until then I refuse to go into detail. You don't deserve detail, so go back to wandering through your starry night skies. Leave me and my nightmare alone.

Quigley never meant it anyways. He never means it. He doesn't mean to be mean and I don't mean to be the walking dead. Neither of us can help it though.

And why do you think I'm crying? I'm not crying. I've been pinned down, crushed, and bruised, and I never cried. Why would I cry in front of you? Remember your blind eyes? They can't crack me.

I've already been broken.

What? You want to know the details? You want to know everything now?

Well I'll have you know, you'll never know. You will never really know or feel or see what I've been through.

And I just lie there, for your information. I have no choice. He holds me down, steals my air and crawls in and out. And then he closes his eyes and imagines someone else, saying her name. Violet, he will whisper even though part of him knows it will never be her.

Because it's just me. The walking dead.

His sunshine in a bag.

So now you cry. And you try to hold my hand. You try to apologize.

But why should I forgive you? You left me, betrayed me, you helped destroy me. You stupid, moronic, blind and naïve brother. I would laugh at you if I remembered how. And I wish I deaf, because then I wouldn't have to hear anymore of your sobs dripping with the guilt you are now drowned in.

I feel nothing for you. I do not pity you. I am not even angry at you. I feel nothing anymore.

Because you will never see the Quigley I have.

Dear Klaus,

You used to read. You don't anymore but maybe you still remember. Find a dictionary. Look up the definition of one word.

Rape.

And I hope you start to cry again, because those tears will be the only thing to ever restore your sight.

Congratulations. You cracked what was already broken. I told you everything, because that's what you wanted. The light dies in your eyes, just a little, and I hope you break, just a lot.

I hate you.

Love,

Sunny

x0

Vintage88