Risen

Lonely Day - System of a Down

You brought us here for nothing!

Twigg

My Dear Sister

The dawns never quite broke the same after she left the first time. Sure, they were still colourful, and people would mention them lightly in casual conversation over tea, but I had to have her with me to see such beauty as was described…She'd be in my arms, preferably.

It was normal for our class to do that; no one admitted it, though, which I had found odd. I'd laugh at being able to call my father my cousin. When I was a child, it had been the most amusing thing at my disposal, but it earned me quite a few scowls and snaps. Nobody seemed to enjoy the joke but the small eight year old pest running loose on the estate.

Well, save for Annabelle. She was my nanny, looking after me for my mother would not…also a custom of my culture, if one could call it that. She was the great grand-daughter of some slaves brought back from Africa, and wasn't afraid to talk about her heritage; if anything, she encouraged us children, black and white, to listen, and to remember. It was important to her, and I never understood why until years later when it struck me that I had forgotten why poor Annabella had died.

She, not Annabelle, would have known. If I had been able to ask her, she would have been able to tell me, but I left that life behind years and years ago. Well, years ago at least. Two decades, maybe. She's dead, anyhow, my dear sister. Died when she fell off her horse; the beast got spooked by a snake when we were trotting by. It took off with her on it, and stumbled. Crushed her beneath it and dragged her before her foot finally came out of the stirrup.

I won't ride horses anymore, for the record.

Everyone said she wouldn't pull through, but I refused to believe that. You see, she survived the accident long enough for me to bring her home, back to the plantation. The doctor was shocked she had made it that far, but I wasn't. She had always been strong, by dear sister. She clung to me tightly, in her last moments. It was our last time together, and I had to share it with our parents and some servants; I was twenty at the time, and refused to believe my love, my dear sister, was going to die. They had to drag me out of the room, force me to leave her body on the bed where we'd spent many nights together.

When we were little, before she died, my dear sister and I would sit at the table and let Annabelle sing to us while she gave us these tasty little pieces of candies that I can't even remember what they were called, it seems like so long ago. She'd talk about how we were going to grow up and carry on our family's business, and I'd have to marry some little virgin from another rich family, and my dear sister would be married off. It wasn't to scare us, but to prepare us. My dear sister, she and I would scoff and promise never to get married, and Annabelle would laugh and we'd laugh too but not understand why she was laughing.

One day, Annabelle was gone. She had tucked us in the night before, and when I look back on it, I remember her being highly agitated. She said goodnight, and seemed about to cry, but she left and ignored our questions of what was wrong, and my dear sister and I spoke about it until we both fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, Annabelle wasn't only gone, but she was dead. Our father, well, he apparently got Annabelle pregnant, which I didn't understand at the time because I was simply too young. Annabelle had been married and had a son somewhere in the southern waters; her husband and child had been sold, but that didn't matter to me. I didn't get why Annabelle being pregnant was so bad 'for the family name'.

My dear sister, though, she was older than me by a few years. She understood; she wouldn't speak to our father, and he threatened her to stay silent to mother as well. I don't know how she found out, but my dear sister did. She was clever like that.

After she died, it all came back to me. I had forgotten why Annabelle had been hanged, what was to become of me, what would have happened. I would have married her, if she hadn't died. It was normal for our class to do that, and I would have. I couldn't handle the grief, I guess, and so I left. I left, and I wandered around until I joined the King's navy under a false name, just for something to do.

My ship got to the Caribbean, and I left. I left the navy permanently, and I went looking for some form of consolation. I found it in the form of a man who sat right beside me and without a how-do-you-do launched into a conversation. It didn't matter that he was black; his confidence was just astounding, and it sounded as if he'd just learned English. We got to talking, about our pasts, what we were doing in that port, where we were headed…

He spoke of his great grand-mother, who had been taken to the Americas, and how he was going to see about finding some relatives. For a fleeting moment, I thought of Annabelle, but his girl came by. She was pretty and I missed my dear sister when I saw this other woman. I left the bar, and a few weeks later found myself in Tortuga. I ran into the man again, and as it turns out, he was a pirate.
No wonder his confidence.

I joined up on his ship, and we became close friends. Still, whenever he talks about his woman, I miss my dear sister. But she's dead, and so am I inside, and until my body finds rest, we'll never talk again.

Kilala81- Thank you so much for your comment! I'm glad you like the story, and even more so that you appreciate the effort.

Kalimac- Merci beaucoup! You've no idea how much your comment is appreciated! It encouraged me to write another chapter (even though it took a while! Aheh!) I'm pleased that you understand what I'm trying to do with the chapters; what emotions and feelings I'm trying to convey. glee

Author's Notes: Sorry this one took so much time. I also apologize that it got rushed near the ending. I had a bit of a writer's block, but still wanted to finish the chapter.