Sincerely Me: Letters from My OCs

Dear Hannah

OCs from: Love Me When I'm Unlovable

11/1/21

It's just Asher and me now. Legally. You're an adult now. Eighteen. And you're gone. You didn't even give me a second look. Is it bad if I'm not sad? I loved you. I trusted you. And you made bad decision after bad decision and left Asher and me to pay the consequences. Is it bad if I'm not sad about missing you?

Do you remember Halloween? I was eleven the last time you took me anywhere for Halloween. I was Anna, you were Elsa, and Asher was Sven. I had a long-sleeved, hot pink shirt and a black t-shirt on top that you had glued little gems too. I was wearing my blue skirt too.

You put my hair in two braids too. You were wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt, a blue t-shirt over it, and jeans because you didn't have a white or blue skirt. Then you cut antlers out of cardboard for Asher. They kept falling off of his head. Do you remember?

You told our foster mom you were taking us out to go trick-or-treating. You told me we were going out trick-or-treating.

We pulled up in the driveway of a house. I thought that was odd since our foster parents always let us out on the curb the couple of times they took us. You told me to hold Asher's hand as we walked up. I did. When the guy opened the door, I held out my little Walmart sack. I nudged Asher and told him to do the same.

You shook your head at us. "Stop. We're not here for candy."

I got confused, but you didn't elaborate. You took my hand, told me to hold Asher's hand, and took us both inside. It was loud. And there were lots of people. Asher started crying, and you picked him up and started bouncing him. That confused me because you always take him out of loud, crowded places. But I trusted you. You told me to be quiet. I thought maybe we were going trick-or-treating in a group, like that one time.

But then your boyfriend, Jackson, came out. You put Asher down and told me to hold his hand. He was still crying. You hugged Jackson.

"Aren't we going trick-or-treating?" I asked.

You shook your head, smiling. "No, it's better, Rita. It's a Halloween party!"

I wasn't nearly as excited as you were. You told me and our foster mom that we were going trick-or-treating.

It wasn't the first time you'd lied to her, but it was the first time you'd lied to me.

I frowned and started to protest, but you bent down and took my hands, and looked into my eyes. "Rita, please, please, please, be good. Please. I'll get you ice cream on the way home."

"I don't want ice cream," I replied. "I want to go trick-or-treating. Like you told me we were."

"What a brat," Jackson said under his breath. You heard it.

"She's not a brat," you snapped at him. "She's my sister. Call her a brat again and you won't have a girlfriend." Then you turned back to me. "Please, Rita. Just tonight. Just for tonight. Please."

I said yes. I said yes because I trusted you. You took Asher's hand and you placed it in mine. He was still crying. "Keep him safe for me, little sister," you said.

I nodded. "Are you leaving?"

"Just for a little," you said. "I'll be back," you said.

I waited for an hour, but you didn't come back. Asher was still crying. So I took him to the front yard where there weren't people. I sat with him, rubbing his back until he stopped crying.

You came out a while later and yelled at me. You said I shouldn't have left. You said you couldn't find me. You said you were worried.

But if you were worried, wouldn't you have checked on us sooner?

But I trusted you, so I nodded and apologized.

I don't trust you anymore. I don't trust you to come back, because I know you won't.

Love, Rita.