Hey! So, yeah. This randomly sprung from the darkest, deepest, most sick and twisted depths of my mind. You can tell already just how much fluff there will be in this, can't you? ...that would be none. Heheh. *curls up and dies inside* Hope you like it!

Confederate

"Hey, big brother. Miss me?" The voice echoed in my head, cheerfully.

"Come on, you wouldn't forget your little sister... would you?" The voice shook a little as it dropped a decibel.

"What..." I looked around confusedly and frantically. "Who... Where..."

"I'm right here, silly!" The voice got closer as the little girl dropped, upside down, as the little girl swung back and forth on the tree branch. It was strong, one of the stronger branches, but it wouldn't hold her for very long, at least, not while she was swinging like that.

"Ev, please, get down from there, before you f-" I was caught off by Evelyn's shriek of surprise as the branch snapped and she plummeted over fifteen feet to the ground. She lay there limply. I yelped as he scrambled over to her. "Evie? Ev? Are you alright?"

Evelyn lay there limply as I knelt over her still body. "Evie...? No..."

Evelyn's eyes flickered open as she glared me with hateful eyes. She seemed to age in an instant, from looking nine to looking fourteen. Her pale ivory dress shimmered and warped into her gray military uniform, buttoned in two rows down the front and cinched at the waist with a golden belt. The epaulettes were tangled and knotted, the sleeves worn and ragged, and the collar bloodied. Blood ran down the corners of her mouth in rivulets and formed a scarlet bib over her chest, staining the uniform surrounding the gaping hole in her chest. Mud splattered her pale face and skin and her hair was ripped and matted, and the once-healing scar that lined the width of her nose under her eyes was now torn open and bleeding. The uniform cap that she wore lay discarded a few feet away, almost indistinguishably ripped. A lone, blood-stained dagger lay a foot away from her, but she made no move as to grab it. She spat up blood as she spoke.

"You killed me."

"Wait, Evie, n-"

"You killed me." Evelyn spat out the words and blood as if it were poison. She glared up at me with a venomous look that could shut up any man.

"You killed me. Your little sister." She swallowed some blood as she spoke, and gulped it down.

"Ev-" I was cut off.

"And you will pay in your blood."

I recoiled in shock by her words, and she seized the opportunity to grab the dagger and stab me with it in the chest, hilt-deep. I could feel the dagger penetrate the back of my blue uniform, and pierce through. I choked on the blood, and felt it rise in my throat, desperately trying to cough it out. I unwillingly fell forward on her shoulder, coughing, spitting, choking, as she pushed the blade further and twisted it. I could feel her hot, rattling breath as she whispered in my ear.

"You killed me. I hear every plea you make at forgiveness, back in your world, every cry of guilt, everything. I hear everything from my place in Limbo, and I have no intention of forgiving you. Ever. You killed me, big brother. You destroyed my home. You're unforgivable, big brother." She twisted the knife some more, dragging the point upwards inside my chest.

Voices screamed in my head. How was she doing this? The strain of her wound shouldn't allow her to do this, it should be too physically challenging, and the way she was moving implied that it held no physical restraint whatsoever-

"Surprised, big brother? Welcome to my world of Limbo. Past wounds that you inflicted on me have no effect on me anymore because I'm dead, you f-."

I desperately tried to say something in between coughs of blood. I could feel the rivulets of blood dripping from her mouth fall on my shoulder, and the blood from my would mixing with hers. I was on my knees leaning forward on her shoulder, and she was in the same position, her harsh whisper raising decibels to a loud yell. I winced at the noise, and at the profanities she yelled.

Tears ran down my cheeks, the salt making the scratched on my face burn. When did I acquire these? I carried no memory of anyone inflicting them upon me.

Cutting her off mid-scream, I whispered to her.

"I may be unforgivable, but you'll always be my little sister. And I'll never stop regretting what I did. I'm sorry."

She froze, mid-screech, and stared down at me. Anger forming on her brow, she yanked her blade out and slashed it across my chest, shoving me away, stumbling. Blood pure from the new wound, hot and angry. It showed no signs of relenting, just like her anger.

I collapsed to the ground and lay there, motionless, as she beat over me, screaming in my face. Rage practically poured like a hurricane from every orifice in her body, and she screamed so loudly and sharply, I thought I'd go deaf. Tears trickled down my cheeks.

"You bastard! How dare you even try to apologize? You took away my chance at life! You took my life from me, and watched me bleed out on the ground! I posed no threat to you, I was already beaten, had already surrendered, and you fucking killed me, you fucking bastard! All I was doing was yelling, I didn't do anything physical, I was using my right of free speech that you hold so goddamn dear. My country was already dissolved, and I was expressing my fucking right to free speech, as protected by the First fucking Amendment! Your country basically fucking viewed us as your fucking property, and that meant that we should have had the same fucking rights that you had! That included the First Amendment, you hypocritical asshat! All I was doing was expressing my opinions, my country had already surrendered to your rule by then, and were bound by the same laws you were, and the Bill of Rights still fucking applied to us, even then! You had no right, big brother, to take my life!"

"You threatened my people." I muttered. "You threatened my countrymen. You may have been expressing your right of free speech, but you threatened them, and you threatened me."

"Does that fucking matter?" She screamed at me. "I was a child then, compared to you! I was fucking fourteen, a mouthy little brat, who would mouth off to everyone and threaten anyone who looked at me funny! Now, maybe I would have expected any other solider to shoot me for threatening them, but you knew me! You were my older brother! You had no right, nor excuse! You knew that most of the time, when I'd cuss someone out, I'd never really mean it, once I calmed down and saw reason! You knew that I was just fucking angry, for God's sake, I had just lost a war, Alfred!"

She poured every ounce of contempt she felt for me in that one little word, my name. It pierced harder than anything else ever would. She had always referred to me before as big brother or Alfie. Never Alfred. Was this how Arthur felt when I declared independence?

"You still threatened my citizens." I mumbled quietly, not really trying to put my heart in defending myself anymore.

"Does that fucking matter Alfred? Does it? Did you not just hear a word I said? Did you? I was a fucking child, you bastard. I didn't know then when to give up, when to let things go, of course I threatened you! It was in my nature! And besides-" She choked, and broke off, tears dribbling down her cheeks. I stared at her in shock. Was Evelyn crying? Evelyn never cried no matter how bad things got-

Evelyn paused her yelling to wipe tears from her face, and spoke softer now. She was still yelling, but it was much, much quieter, muffled by her sobs.

"I was a fucking child, ok? I was a fucking spoiled-ass brat who acted like a bitch to anyone who looked at me wrong or judged me weird, and really didn't know any better You know as well as I do how women were treated back then, let alone little girl-children. You know how I was small for my age, how people thought that I was incapable of doing anything a man could do, how I acted like a little spitfire bitch because of it, because at least they'd shut up when the quiet-looking little girl in the corner of the room cussed them out so bad their ears were practically bleeding. They'd shut up, and that silence was one I had learned to treasure. You have no idea, how long it took for me to convince those assholes to let me on the fucking battlefield, the things I had to do, how damn scarring they were, all just to fight for my country. And I was frustrated, ok? I was frustrated and angry, of course I'd revert to my instincts in a situation like that." Evelyn paused for breath.

I stayed silent, waiting for her to finish.

"I was a child. By physical age, I was fourteen, but I could barely pass for twelve. In order to join, I had to pretend to be a little boy, and the other soldiers mocked and spat at me for being so young, jealous for my being clearly favored by the generals, they did this on a daily basis, until we actually fought. After seeing me fight, they stopped picking on me for the most part, but they still singled me out by ignoring me. The only thing I could do was fight, and fight better than them, so I did. I saw the effects of how I hurt people, but I needed to fight well, or they'd replace me in a heartbeat for some stupid male soldier that they'd deem "better" than me, and I'd be forgotten. I was angry as hell when you won, I was fucking pissed, but I had no choice but surrender my arms. But even if I surrendered my weapons, I'd never surrender my mouth, so I did the one thing I knew I could do well in a situation like that; I cussed both you and your soldiers. I yelled so many profanities, and threatened you, threats I never meant to follow through on, threats I only yelled because I was angry, and you fucking killed me." She gasped for breath and tried to continue, but I cut her off first.

"Evie, a threat is a threat. You were angry. You've followed through on your threats when you've been in blind rages before, unable to think straight, and you were in a blind rage then. I had no choice but shoot you, because if you completely snapped then, well, my men and I were tired and injured and bloody. If you'd snapped then, you would have killed someone, and I couldn't let that happen."

Evelyn stared down at me, glaring, but I could see the sadness behind her eyes. "Goddammit, Alfred, do you ever listen? Alfred, you took your own sister's life. My life. Regardless of the circumstances, you killed me. You took away my chance at life. I was already defeated, broken, bloody, with only my voice and my life left, and you took even that." She paused, clearly frustrated, words forming on her lips but not being spoken aloud. She stayed like this, for a minute before crying out, quieter now. "Alfred, I never even got to meet my other brother. Matthew. You promised, and you promised, over and over again, that I'd meet him. You took that chance from me."

I stared at her, shellshocked.

She turned from me, and stared at her wound. Spitting, she turned towards me, angry again, glaring. "You killed me. I will not ever forgive you. You took my hopes, dreams, chances away, and I will never forgive you for that. I never got to meet him, or anyone else I wanted to meet. You made so many promises, big brother. You never fulfilled any of your promises, you just left them there, practically forgotten. Not only that, but you outright broke them. And that isn't all. Not only that, but did you even ever tell them about my existence? Nobody alive but you even knows that I ever existed. Not even Matthew knows, Alfred, and that is what really pisses me off. I don't ever want to see you ever again.

She stomped over toward me, knelt down, and raised her knife.

"Goodbye... big brother." A flicker of doubt flew across her face, but she crushed it, and brought the dagger down, and cut out my heart.

Just like I did her's years ago.

I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming and crying and thrashing. In my sleep I had completely kicked off the sheets and blankets on my bed, which were tossed on the floor. Gasping and trembling, I curled up in a ball, clutching my knees to my chest. It was the fetal position, God knew it was one I had taken often as a child when I had nightmares.

Nightmares.

All this was was a nightmare.

But then why did it seem so... real?

Tears trickled down my cheeks as I curled my palms into fists and dug my nails into them. I winced as I drew blood, but did nothing to stop the blood flow. I deserved it.

I deserved all of it. The pain, the nightmares, the ghosts I saw in my sleep. I had killed my sister. Evie. I was cursed.

I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could, and desperately tried to communicate with her ghost that I was sorry, and I had been ever since I made that decision, ever since I pulled that trigger.

But she would never hear me.

She was dead.

And even if she could, she'd never forgive me.

She said it herself.

I was unforgivable.

"Evie, I'm sorry. As your brother I'm sorry. I'm sorry you never got the chance to live a full life. I'm sorry you never got to meet anyone you wanted to meet. I'm sorry I broke my promises. I'm sorry I never told anyone about you."

. . .

"Mattie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for never telling you about our little sister, and I'm sorry for killing a sister you never knew, and Evie, Ev, Evelyn, I'm sorry for making sure you'd never know him."

. . .

"Evie, I don't expect you to forgive me."

. . .

"... I don't deserve it."

A/N: Ok, so I have plenty of notes to add here. During the Civil War, you had to be at least eighteen to join either army, but children as young as twelve signed up with their parent's permission, however, quite a few signed up without. As sad as it is to say, many children were put on the lines and died directly in the conflict. Women weren't allowed to join, but some did by pretending to be a man. Evie's bosses let her join on condition that she pretend to be a little boy. She was as important in her army as any high-ranking soldier, but to preserve appearance, they pretended for her to be a very low-ranking soldier. However, she took orders from no one, and on more than one occasion, gave them, so no one believed that but didn't question it, other than occasionally picking on her. Her generals and her higher-ups in the government knew her true gender, but no one else did. As for a general past, Evie was found by Alfred around the War of 1812 as a toddler, and back then she represented the American South. Then, they were very good friends with each other, but arguments over slavery dampened their relationship, and the matter of slavery and states rights (mainly slavery) led to Evie's succession from the Union. Their relationship afterwards pretty much was doomed, and they fought many times on the battlefield against each other, until the war ended and Evie was killed... by Alfred. Sibling relationships are always such fun, aren't they? Especially the death threats. At least until someone actually follows through on theirs. I may write a sequel story to this. If I do, it will be Alfred's memories of Evie before the Civil War, during the war, and the battle where she died in. Let me know if you would read that and if you think I should write that. Anyway, I hope you liked this and thanks for reading it! Ciao!

Update: I ended up following through on writing a sequel/companion story to this. It's called Confederate Memory, and I'm quite happy with it. Please feel free to check it out!

Confederate States of America:

Name: Evelyn Ivy Jones

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Gray-Blue

Skin Color: Fair

Age: 14

Birthday: March 11 (When the Confederate Constitution was adopted)

Status: Dead, as of May 13, 1865