This is a strange story. It's a story of love and betrayl. It is a story of magick and normalcy. It is a tale of life and death. It's our story.

I was the older sister of two insane brats, one nineteen and the other seventeen. You don't really need to know my age, but if you must know, at the time I was thirty. We lived a crowded, sheltered life in the downtowns of London, England, where the sun rarely shone and dreams rarely came true.

Our mother had passed away some years earlier, when my little sister Anne was ten and my kid sister Faith was twelve. I was twenty-three, and therefore expected to take care of the now broken family.

Anne and Faith never knew our father, nor would they ever. He died the day Faith was born. I remember him well, but Anne and Faith have never asked about him, so I've never shared my memories.

Me? My name is Emily, but I've always been called Emmy because when Faith was born, she couldn't pronounce Emily and it just kinda stuck. I graduated from college with a degree in music. I was a singer, and have performed in several big stage productions in the past. I hated to toot my own horn, but toot it I did.

But... I'm boring you, aren't I? You want to know about the life and death stuff, eh? Well, be patient. I'm getting to that.

If this were a normal fantasy story about magick and mayhem, it would begin on a stormy night, in some witch's lair. But this one will begin as it actually happened.

It started on a laptop computer.