Things were always as you had perceived them.

That was the first strange point, sister dearest. You had such an odd control over events that I used to find even the mumbling in your sleep to be a sign. This odd air about you- you always blended into the background. You liked it there. You liked isolation. Your only friends were those odd twins and, and I hope this isn't too hubristic, myself. I always admired you, always looked up to you (when I could see you, that is), and always loved you more than anything.

I eventually mated. I lost track of you. I always knew you were there, watching me, making sure that Alonzo wouldn't 'hurt me'. He would never hurt a fly, sister dearest, and you knew it. But I appreciated it just the same.

I always wondered if you mated. Or if you'd done anything with your life, with your abilities. You and Coricopat would have gone together perfectly had he not been practically joined at the hip to his sister. I'd sometimes think that you'd left us completely- but when these thoughts even entered my mind, I'd see you by my side. You'd give me our secret sister smile, and fade back to wherever you came from.

You whispered to me in my dreams. You told me of the happenings at the next Ball. I even saw you there, dancing with a grace I can never rival, out of the corner of my eye. You just recently told me of Electra's strange love for Tumblebrutus (she hasn't even admitted it to herself yet) and explained to me what had really happened to Demeter all those years ago. You are able to be there, my sister, and to be unnoticed. You knew he would show up at the Ball, but not to fret, because everyone would be alright. You eventually visited me more, and told me of what had happened through all of those years, told me of what would happen. I could listen to your voice for hours. I had done so as a kit, so I suppose it was natural.

Alonzo didn't even notice you at first, but then he became aware of your presence. You two always knew what was best for me- odd, for a mate, he really ended up being somewhat like a brother.

You told me of the kit I would have, of her love for all life, old and young. I loved her so much that you may have yet again faded to her. You were her godmother, you know.

But you came back. I grew old. You were exactly the same- tall, striking. How you managed to blend into the background so much, I'll never know. You looked at me, with your clear dark eyes. When you told me you were dying, I knew it to be so. You were never wrong.

And you died. Gracefully, you died. We found you sprawled on the ground, a smile playing on your cold lips. So many cries of "Who is she?" "I don't know her," and so on. I stepped up, and many gasped. Not many words have come from old Cassandra's lips, but on your death day, they came naturally and simply.

"This is my sister," I said, smiling through my falling tears. "You have always known her."

And now when our cats look out of the corners of their eyes, they don't see you. You don't whisper secrets in my dreams anymore. We have no one hidden there, in the background. There is no one to not notice, no one to dance with within our imaginations.

For without you, my dearest sister, dear Exotica, we are no longer Jellicles.