emails from me

email twenty-two.

to: lane
from: the girl you'll stop loving soon.
subject: it was nice having someone like you, love someone like me, even if it was just for a bit.

email twenty-two.

story time.

remember the first time you came over to dad's?
and you looked at the photos on my desk?
there's six there;
they're still there.
maybe i'll pick them up sometime.

well, remember how the sixth frame was faced down,
the photo pressed against the table?

you looked at it, a ghost of a smile tracing your lips. [lips that i should've kissed right then while i had the chance.]

the photo was of two girls, around four or five, with torn, sagging princess dresses with mangled jeans showing through on their ankles.
mis-matched socks adorning their small feet.
one girl with golden brown hair and the other with hair the color of dark chocolate,
both wispy and soft.
both with wide, sparkling green eyes,
but you couldn't tell that from the photo, but they did.

the girls looked so similar lacking their hair color.

the one with dark hair had been stretching the sides of mouth out with her index fingers, her round eyes now squinted with laughter.
her dress had been a dingy blue, falling apart at the seams.

the one with light hair had her lips squished in a kissy face, her eyes fluttered shut, cheeks high in happiness.
her dress was a faded green, one that would've brought out her eye color.

they were sisters.

"my sister," i had whispered to you. i said it simply with no room for elaboration, and you didn't push.

now i'm ready.

it may seem weak to wait until you're thousands of miles away to tell you,
but i just couldn't look into your hard, caramel eyes, [that turned soft while staring at me,],
and tell you that i killed my sister.

we were twins.
she was four and a half minutes older.
she held my hand when we crossed the stret and gave me her ice cream cone when aj vallarta made me drop mine.

her name was clove.

clove jasmine lawrence.

it was june, like it is now,
the date's coming up soon, actually.
we had a pool, one of those pools that you blew up with a loud pump and was taller than me and i could poke my finger into the side.
one with the tall white and blue ladder.

we'd just gone swimming, my hair was still matted in ropes.
mom had work and she'd gone inside to get her uniform on, so she couldn't watch us anymore,
dad was also at work,
forrest wouldn't watch us because he was thirteen at the time, and was much too cool to hang out by the pool watching his six year old sisters, and had gone to hang out with his friend mark.

my mom told us to stay away from the pool while she was inside.
grandma would be there soon, and "maybe she sit outside and watch you two swim," as my mother had said.

"grandma never lets us swim."
clove was right,
she'd waited to say that until mom was gone, so only i had heard.

she was right, of course.
grandma hated sitting outside in june,
said it made her sticky and uncomfortable. [much like holding oscar's hand.]

clove was the more outgoing of the two of us,
she made decisions and was much more daring than my shy, scared self.
she told me we should go in the pool before grandma got here, so we could have a few more minutes of the splashing water.

i told her not to.

i told her we shouldn't be swimming without a grown-up and something bad might happen.

she called me a scaredy-cat, and climbed into the pool.

she said if i wasn't getting in, the least i could do was stand watch.

so i did.

but i was busy watching for mom, rather than see clove swim to the very middle of the pool and loose momentum.

"aspen! aspen help!"

i'd ran over to the ladder and climbed it.

and i froze.

clove was flailing around, shouting at me to help her.

but i couldn't.

my feet wouldn't move with my brain.

i couldn't jump in and attempt to save her,
i couldn't run to get mom.
i couldn't do much of anything, except stare at the splashing water with a blank face.

i don't know how long the screaming and flailing around went on for,
but then, as if in an instant,
it stopped.

i could see clove's dark hair floating up from her limp body from the bottom of the pool.
no air bubbles emerging from the water above her body.

still, i didn't move.

i didn't move until my mom saw me, staring blankly into the now calm water.

"aspen? what's wrong sweetie? where's clove?"

no answer.

she must've realized something was wrong, because she ran over.

she scream that had ripped through her chest still haunts me.

she pulled me down from the ladder, since i sure wasn't moving on my own,
and dove into the pool.

as you can imagine, all acts of cpr and anything of the sort, had failed.

my twin sister was dead,

and it was my fault.

at least, that's what forrest told me;
and my mom;
and my dad.

that's when forrest started doing what he did to me.
i told him no,
he wouldn't listen.

"you killed clove. it's your fault i'm sad. you have to make it better, aspen."

then he pressed his dampened lips to mine, ending all protests.

sorry i never told you,
i kind of wanted to be with you for a bit without you knowing i'm a murderer.

-me

••

a/n

sorry the spacing is messed up :/

so guys i'm taking a break from social media stuff for a few days, which includes wattpad.

my wonderful best friend will be posting once a day for me, so you'll still get your emails :)

if you really need to get ahold of me, for whatever reason, i'll be on @equallyopposite

otherwise, just message me on here or comment n stuff, the usual, and i'll see you in just a few days!