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I am a little more stable right now, so I can write more. I have been very busy with moving and preparing for classes. My roommate is nice, but when talking about America, I have felt a little like the guy on the gallows not making the gallows joke. I am very overwhelmed at all times and spend lots of time crying. I can’t sleep in the mornings for anxiety. I have scheduled a meeting with mental health services here and hope I can get on medication.

Mom left a few days ago. I feel very alone, especially when she is asleep. We went to the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery, both of which had so many famous paintings I felt 30% more cultured walking out on principle. Turn left — George III, two feet in front of you, full 18th century regalia. This must be what George Washington felt like.

Making friends is rather difficult, especially when it seems everyone else has managed it already and made their own groups. I hope it works out. My best friend lives in the Netherlands, at least, and I hope I can visit them. How are our friends? I wonder who you’ve met since so long ago.

The campus is very beautiful and this is ever an ‘opportunity’, but I miss America so much I can’t stop feeling unhappy. I miss Mom and my cats and my room. There is so much that’s happened all there is to describe is the overwhelm. I hope you are well, happy as you can be. I bet Mom will post pictures to the Flickr. You can be jump-scared by George III yourself.

I had to explain to someone what happened to you when they looked in my garnet locket and asked about our age difference. They are always surprised. I don’t want to always be like this. I miss you. It is the afternoon there. Enjoy the weekend, Soren. I love you.

With love,

Alice

I don’t want to write much right now since I’m crying right now and am rather overwhelmed right now. I moved in today. Mom and Aaron are in a nearby town. We traveled by train.

Lots has happened. My room is nice. I have a nice view looking at the library. Everywhere is very old. They have lots of old things. My roommate is also nice, she’s English but moved from Norway.

Mom is very far away right now. It’s all a bit much. I hope I will be better by next week. I love you. Good morning. I don’t think I’ll change my schedule for writing in case it confuses me into forgetting, so you might get these earlier.

With love,

Alice,

Thursday paradigm shift! What strange thursdayian things are happening that never grace Friday? Grandma arrived yesterday with Trooper (the squirrel) and McKelvey. McKelvey has been very sweet to me, letting me pet him and purring, and is much nicer as an old man than he was when we’d go to Grandma’s house. Mabel has passed away; I don’t remember if I’ve told you, I probably have, but that is important in case I forgot. Achilles is very nice with Grandma since the Greek vacation last year, in a way he never is with most people.

Packing is practically finished, and I can’t sleep for anxiety. I will probably write next week; if I don’t, it’s because I’m busy or without Wi-Fi, so don’t worry. Mom will probably post pictures to Flickr anyway, so you might see what’s going on there. There’s a link to the Flickr on this website somewhere, I’m sure. You remember where it is. You can see all the English tourism we get up to, the museums and whatnot. I am bringing a locket with your portrait in it, which I’m sure I’ve showed you before, with a garnet on the front.

Mom and Aaron went to the weird bike race (not really a race) on Friday with their Barbie and Ken bikes. I followed them on my conspicuously ordinary one. It was still rather fun; a few people had bubble machines on their bikes which was delightful.

I’m very worried. I have never been away this long, especially so far from you. To put it a silly way, imagine all the fish that will be between us, in the Atlantic Ocean. It’s far too many. The first time I went to Europe, I wore the necklace I stole from you, the one you found on the ground outside our white house. I keep it on my wall now, hanging from a thumbtack, and I won’t move it ever again, because I would not lose it. I have a locket now for your memory. I’m sorry I stole it. I won’t have anything of yours, but I will feel your ghost beside me. I often do. I’ve seen you and Mom in public.

I’m rambling again. I feel like I’m leaving you again, which I think I am. Know that I would go home and live with you forever if I could. Know that I’ll be thinking of you all the while.

Time degrades my memory. They don’t allow candles at the college. How will I celebrate Hanukkah before I fly back? I will feel even more far away then. Celebrating Hanukkah is like bringing flowers to you and Mom’s grave to me. It it’s not there, it will be like you were never there at all.

Let’s end more cheerfully. I watched a movie called The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari awhile back, and I’ve been thinking of it ever since. I loved it, and I think it is one of my favorites. Tell me about something you’ve been enamored with of late. Or just think about it. I hope you’re doing something nice. I hope you’ll be taking some fun class in school. I hope Mom lets you eat junk food sometimes. I hope you buy it regardless. I hope you have friends you adore. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday, Soren! How are you doing? We’ve been mostly working on packing for school. We leave next Friday; I probably won’t be able to write that day, so I’ll write the day before.

Mom showed me a GoFundMe Mom (Mel) made to fly you to a national rowing championship. Well done! Mom (Jess) thinks you don’t really like rowing and that Mom (Mel; man, we really should’ve kept with Mama) made you get into it so you could work towards a college scholarship. Do you like rowing? I think you’d like the friends inherent to it, but there is not as much flair as gymnastics. I hope you do well at Nationals. In the GoFundMe, Mom says something like “We love you” near the end. I cried after reading it because it wasn’t true.

Screwing around, I’ve discovered I can write in different colors. If you can see it, look, we’re pink now! Come on Barbie, let’s go party.

Now we are blue. Gender doesn’t exist in computer-land. You can change at will. This is lots of fun. I can also write in white. This message is a secret.

I got the plague, but I’m doing mostly better. It functions like a fever, like it did last time. Did you ever get it? I hope not, but it probably would do you little ill. Just sit in bed for a few days and ring a bell until Mom brings you ice cream. I don’t know. The interesting things going on here are functionally mundane. I will have much better to tell you about in England, where I will list off regional differences until we are both exhausted. Crisp is chip. Torch is flashlight. Museum is stolen goods. Do you remember that there’s a chip (is crisp) brand called Soreen? I think Mom told you the first time we went to Europe, over Text+. I’ll buy some and tell you how it tastes.

This is feeling rather boring now. I’m going to miss you. I’ll be farther away for longer than ever before. I’ll tell you fun facts to fill in the gap. The very wide, fish-filled gap.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! How are you this near-weekend? Here it’s mostly been navigating college bureaucracy (terrible). Please affirm your identity for the 3948493th time.

Smoke from the fires in Canada clouded the sky a few days ago. You could smell it inside. Did it go down to you in Oregon? I hope not, it felt scary to go outside for a few days. I still feel wary of the air quality. There weren’t fires like this when we were little, but I hear the phrase ‘fire season’ thrown around very casually. It makes one feel very old. There’s still a slight haze in the air, but that may just be me going mad.

Well, there is not much else going on here today. I watched a silent film called Metropolis yesterday and liked it very much. I like silent film; this will be how I manage to never spend money on luxuries as an adult, lol. You can’t spend 8 dollars on a movie if it’s been in the public domain for five years.

I suppose that’s all that’s interesting happening this week. Perhaps I will have something better to talk about soon. When I’m in England, perhaps. Did you know protesting is illegal over there? I think they should protest that. I love you. I hope you’re well.

With love,

Alice

In trying to make writing to you on my new iPad work, I think I’ve logged into Mom’s original account again. Perhaps that will help out? I’m writing on it right now, fingers crossed that it works.

I learned at a work party a few days ago that two people there have read my letters to you. I thought nobody did. I won’t name them for privacy, but I have hardly spoken to either of them, so they were not friends who might have done it because they knew me well. Isn’t that amazing? People usually don’t like to hear about it. It’s been like they feel contempt or just uncomfortable. If either of you are here, hi, I’ve never felt so hopeful about coworkers knowing about my deepest traumas. One of them asked me what I want people to do knowing about you. I couldn’t answer. Bothering you or Mom would be a terrible idea. But ignoring you does nothing at all. I really don’t know, but I guess here that only people in Eugene who already know you can help by just being there. Watching out that you’re alright without being weird. But you might think that’s stalkerish. If it helps, nobody tells us what you’re up to. Or what Mom says about us. Or anything at all.

In other affairs, how are you this week? Is it terribly hot down there? It is up here, I hope you’re well. Aaron got the plague again, and Mom probably has it, so I’ll probably get it too. I’ve mostly just been trying to survive the depressive episode oscillations. I’ve been doing more drawing and writing lately, knock on wood. A friend recommended that I read a Warrior Cats book to help get back into reading, and I (already having 938392848392 of those books) read a scene in one that caused an intense, hurtful flashback to the sights and atmosphere of the summer of 2016, and it hurt my heart so much I almost had to put the book down. I do not think it’s normal to long for childhood so so terribly, but I never felt well again. I wonder if you feel something similar?

Hoping again that this will send. I miss you. I hope you are happy and not overheating.

With love,

Alice

Friday again. How are you? Mom and Aaron are going to an event where they bicycle around town in bikes dressed to look deliberately silly. Mom’s attaching an umbrella and some paper mache elephants on the sides.

Every time I start to write, I think to myself, “Wait, what have I done this week?” and I go to my photos to check. There isn’t much there right now. Pearl brought in a mouse today. I had another dream about you. I went to Eugene and saw you and Mom (Mel) in a grocery store (one that doesn’t exist there). You had a new sister who said I wasn’t her sister but Soren’s, which I didn’t mind (since people have shoved the sister label onto me with several others who definitely aren’t my siblings). I cried and hugged Mom, and she hugged me back and said it was okay, but I knew she was only doing it because we were in public. I don’t remember much else. I’m tired of phantoms. They make me sadder in the morning when they’re not real, but I keep wanting them anyway.

I haven’t much to say, so I won’t say much. I hope the summer heat isn’t bothering you too much back home. I heard Miami is on fire. I hope our family is okay. I don’t think they’re in Miami, but my memory is too poor. I hope the smoke isn’t where they are. Come to me someday, please.

With love,

Alice

Happy August. How are you this Friday? I walked part of the way home from my summer camp job today, and had a very nice time eating blackberries off bushes and looking at trees. I think the berries came up later than last year, though the summer is hotter.

I finished a book called The Goldfinch a little bit ago and liked it very much. I hear there is a movie, but I haven’t seen it yet. I have also been listening to a book about Ancient Greek history at camp, and though I’m a little too overwhelmed to remember everything, I like it very much. There is something very poetic in the aftermath of the Bronze Age collapse that applies to The Goldfinch’s central conflict, that the things in the past linger very heavily upon the present. You’ve been hiding a painting for years, your entire world is gone, and that fact informs everything. I’m rambling now.

Not very much else interesting is going on. I am writing a new story, exactly like the other ones, and I desperately need to find a new story once I’m finished. A dead or kidnapped sister isn’t the only thing to write about, but it always returns to that. It seems to be the only conflict I can come up with. We cannot all have kidnapped sisters. It becomes impractical. The stories aren’t good enough to warrant this. Perhaps I ought to write something from the sister’s perspective, and find a new plot trying to know you through the character, but perhaps I need to find something else entirely. It feels egotistical to only write about my own problems (which is exactly what I’m doing right now. Curses).

Maybe you’d find some comfort in one of these stories, while they exist. I don’t have much else to share with you today. I’ll give you my favorite: The Death of Jane O’Flaherty. It still needs editing, but I think it is my best work. It is the only story I’ve ever written not dedicated to you, as I wrote it for a friend who invented the original concept with me. It is fairly short, and has some description of dead bodies, suicidal ideation, depression, and grief. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LjhDQB-w6yW1ZvczL0dl5NgarAho3-SyhinBZpbi5RQ/edit . You may find it fairly boring, since I wrote imitating a 19th century writer.

Enough on myself. Tell me about you sometime. You were a better writer than I ever was. You probably still are. You can sense talent; I have only effort, which isn’t always enough. I’ll paraphrase something you wrote a long time ago, and leave you now: “As the moon rises, I still love you.”

With love,

Alice

The Barbie movie was very fun. Very much an advertisement (trying to make Barbie seem less anti-feminist) but very, very fun. How are you doing? How is Eugene? Mom and I went into Seattle for my student visa application. The Blank Space Cafe (the Taylor Swift-themed one) has closed down. There was a Taylor Swift concert going on while we were there, though, so every third person was wearing merchandise — a tragedy to pass by the closed shop like that, when the image of its patron saint was just about everywhere. Do you still listen to Taylor Swift? I always take note of what she’s doing, since I remember you liked her so much. One of my last memories is of you and Layla singing Wonderland in the car.

Paris and Achilles got neutered yesterday. I was at work when they got home, but Mom says they were fairly catatonic most of the time. Achilles drooled entire dollops. They don’t seem terribly traumatized about the loss of one body part, but they do keep staring into space. I hope their brains are too small to be very psychologically affected, especially since Mom waited three years after their birth to neuter them (mutilation, she says, but she had no problem with fixing Pearl). I wonder what Mom (Mel) would think of it. Fang and Mali were definitely neutered, right? I often wonder what Mom would think. She told me once she would come to my prom night and embarrass me. What would she have fond differently for my 18th birthday? You perhaps know better than anyone. My traumatic brain has failed me. What’s Mom like? What are you like? What a failure of the mind.

For some reason, my new iPad won’t let me send messages here like the old one. If I suddenly stop writing for awhile when I go to college, that will be why. I’ll try my best to fix it.

I wish I would send you more music to tell you how I feel, but that would be too embarrassing. I think a lot about the theater aphorism ‘when you can’t speak anymore, sing’, but imagine what someone trying to make fun of me would say. I can’t make a little box like “Now playing: Life Eternal, Ghost” on the internet like this. But I’m not eloquent enough to pour out how sad I am every Friday. It’s draining. I’m really tired lately. Several years, really. I learned the Townsend’s is closed downtown. I think someday the places we went as children will be unrecognizable. Like someone born in 1890 walking around the same place in 1900 vs 1990. But I can’t know what we’ve gained because I can’t go home.

I’m rambling now. I ought to go write something. Do you have some preferred artistic expression? I hope you do. There is no better consoling thing than creation.

With love,

Alice

I’m about to go to the Barbie movie, so there is little time to write. I’m so excited. I love you. I thought of you listening to ‘Life Eternal’ by Ghost recently. Are songs too cheesy for our trauma? I think we are entitled to silliness. I love you. I will tell you how the Barbie movie is — I hope it’s brilliant. I hope you’re doing brilliant too.

With love,

Alice

How are you this Friday? There’s a festival here today, called the Strawberry Festival (I think because this place grows lots of them), and a friend is coming for a sleepover so we can go. It is very hot today, so I hope it won’t be uncomfortable. Are you doing anything?

Mom and Aaron are back from Country Fair. They hardly set foot in Eugene. It seems to have gone as Oregon country fairs usually go. Did you go? I don’t remember ever attending as kids. Perhaps there are too many drugs there. Someone offered Mom mushrooms (she declined). I went to pride on Saturday while they were still gone and did volunteer face painting. It’s a very happy place there. Does Eugene have a pride festival? I don’t remember ever seeing one. Alas. Where are you? I wonder what you are doing so often. You might be having lunch as I write this, you might be sitting outside, you might be out on errands with Mom. I know where I am everyday; I never know where you are. I see a girl who looks like you at work sometimes. It’s always a little sad.

Something more cheerful: the Barbie movie is coming out soon. It looks like the funnest thing in the world. Mom made piroshkis last night, which were very good. My friend got me into a band, I am working on a painting. There are still nice things. Here’s something that reminded me of writing to you, and how it can feel repetitive.

I love you. Perhaps I’ll have something more fun to talk about next week.

With love,

Alice

Mom wants me to tell you that Cada, who I told you about I think last Friday, is right across from ‘wc fields stage’. Just in case you would like to visit her at country fair.

Not much has been happening here. I’ve mostly been watching television and tending to the cats and chickens. I went to a friend’s party on the Fourth of July and watched the fireworks by the water; it was great fun, and the water in the distance caught on fire. Then we had a fire and s’mores, also quite nice. It is too quiet here. I wonder where you are now. I’ve had a bit of a panic episode today and now I hear somebody yelling somewhere outside, which is not helping. This rarely happens here, but did in Seattle. That’s why the television’s here, to fill in the silence. It’s comforting.

I’m going to do some volunteer-face painting tomorrow with Marcia and Emily, which will be nice. I did the same thing last year, and it was great fun. My favorite time was the boy who wanted his entire face green. I’ll tell you what happened next Friday when it’s done.

I’m going to make dinner now and calm down. Tell me about your day someday. It is too narcissistic here. I am talking about myself to an antiquated memory, because I have nothing else to talk about with a thought that never changes. What would you care for the news? You likely already know about it. The only different thing would be my opinion, and thus it circles back to myself.

With love,

Alice

I tried to write this post much earlier on my new iPad; it said ‘uploading’, and, several hours later, it hasn’t uploaded. I’m sorry. Happy patriotism explosion day! Nothing much is happening today; I wouldn’t even write to you if it weren’t technically a holiday, which you oughtn’t be excluded from. Are you doing anything?

Mom wants my letters to be more emotional. I do not like bleeding out my heart every Friday and holiday, so I will tell you very objectively that I am always suffering, and it is because I love you, and Mom, and our family. I hope you have fun today.

With love,

Alice

June ends quickly. It came very quickly as well. Time itself is very quickly these days. How are you today? It is warm again today and I am withering for it.

The play I told you about last week was very good. It tells of how an upper class family, through small, collective actions, murdered an impoverished girl. Its exposure of the rot within their 1912 rich society was fantastic. It reminded me of home a little, just with less cravats. I wish we went to the theater more often. I don’t watch bootlegs, it just isn’t the same. I think I like being in the theater more than watching the story.

I did most of my foreign student visa application on Monday, and hardly understood a word of it. If I am rejected for some pedantic reason I’d understand completely, because I hardly had a clue what was happening. Do you think you’ll stay here for college? It’s much cheaper overseas, but you don’t have to go through the visa bureaucracy, which is a plus.

Most of my memory is poor today. I haven’t written in my diary for a bit, which is how I remember what’s happened day to day. It all goes very quickly, like June. I bought some clothes with a gift card and like them very much. I’m drawing on my new iPad and like it because the battery goes out slower. I added a few more memories to the ‘memories of Soren’ document when they returned to me. It’s such a pitifully small document. I wish I’d made it sooner.

Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy the weekend. Enjoy yourself. That’s all I can really say.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? It’s quite warm here now. All the customers at the grocery store are quite happy with it, but it makes me apprehensive. It was never this warm this early ten years ago. Aren’t they worried?

Laura’s birthday present came a few days late. She got me some money and cards from her and a boy she works with, and his mom got me some old Victorian cabinet cards. They’re quite lovely, I think from the 1880s. I don’t know what I will do with the money (100 dollars), what would you do? I think the smart thing would be to not spend it, but I’d like to have some fun.

We’re going to see a play tonight, called ‘An Inspector Calls’. I think it is also Victorian. We’re going to bicycle, so pray for me. Forgive me that I am not very interesting this evening. I am tired again. There is hardly ever much else. What are you doing today? Will you do anything this weekend? I hope you have something fun to do.

With love,

Alice

How are you today, Soren? I hope school has let out by now. Not too much has happened today, so I can recount it fairly quickly. Mom made me pancakes with strawberry slices for breakfast. I got a new iPad (since my old one is quite old, and Apple is planning that obsolescence), a west coast sticker, a pen, a spoon and knife with peanut butter jokes engraved, and a small cherry blossom-shaped rose quartz. More is yet to come because of mailing waits. Grandma got me a gift card and a necklace with my portrait of you on it from 2022.

She called and told me she made it, and that it’s to take to college. It will likely live hung on the wall or somewhere similar, like a portrait.

I wonder if Mom thinks about me on this day. I know you do if you read these, but if you do not, who knows. I only know that I think of you both on your birthdays. We’re going to have pizza for dinner. I had strawberry cake for lunch. It’s alright. I like the rituals of birthdays but Mom wants to abandon them since I am older. I do not like being older. My friends have made me feel better than the presents and everything. I hope you see your friends over the summer. As often as possible. Mom and Aaron are going to Country Fair this year, and I will watch the cats. Perhaps you can convince Mom to take you? Many of the people there know Aaron. You might find luck asking around for him (his last name is Long) when Mom isn’t looking. Aaron’s friend Cada Johnson will also be selling her art there. You can ask her anything you like. Her art looks like this, and she was by the creek last year.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! How are you doing? I’ll write to you shortly on my birthday, since it’d be unfair to exclude you. I don’t think I’ve had to consider this much since my birthday tends to fall on Fridays/Saturdays anyway. Aaron’s returned from the east coast and he brought several things. Both Mom and I now own old Russian hats shaped like Holden Caulfield’s, and I own several more 19th century books. The oldest now is one from 1744 — the thing scares me to be near, since I’m afraid it’ll fray into nothing. Here is the cover.

It’s dedicated to Theodore I, king of Corsica, who was still alive. This is older than the USA. This was over 100 years old when Oscar Wilde was born. Why ever Aaron’s dad owned it, I’ve not a clue.

You know those poems that are like “being a —— is like. I —. I don’t —. I love —. I hate —.”? I read one of those from the perspective of a younger sibling. It scorched my heart a little. Pearl is sitting on me now. Does she know how much I love her? Do you know how much I love you? My heart keeps cracking. It’s why I’ve wanted to kill myself since I was eleven.

I think I am emotional (again) today. I won’t bother you much. I don’t want to turn eighteen. I don’t feel old enough. I thought I’d be dead by sixteen. I suppose we’ll see what happens next. Where are you? What are you thinking?

With love,

Alice

I have a small piece of good news: it rained today. It has been raining all day. I do not have much else to say, so I will tell you a story.

Once, some years ago, in about 2018, Mom and I visited Eugene for the first time in awhile. That night, after it was dark, we visited your house. All we did was look at it. The light was on in the attic in the little closet-space where our clothes hang. I looked at that light and knew you were inside. I felt like Gatsby gazing across the bay. I still think about that light sometimes. Sometimes I think that you might think that I could be outside anytime, stalking the neighborhood. I often wish I were.

With love,

Alice

Happy June! It’s pride and summertime. The weather is scorching and overwhelming. July will kill us all. If I see 90 degrees before then, I’m going to move to the remaining icebergs and seethe until they melt. It hasn’t rained in years. I don’t think it will before my birthday. How’s it down there?

I am affected by too much melancholy; I went for a walk yesterday and it didn’t help. I was still tired and sad. I think it’s the weather’s fault; it’s too hot. I think about making you a playlist of songs I’ve associated with you since Mom kidnapped you, but I feel too embarrassed, since that is the sort of thing a boyfriend made fun of online does. Nobody back home likes me anymore. I could not bear it if they laughed at me. Do you fear like that? Are you scared they don’t like you either?

Mom just gave me a bookmark from Grandpa (who passed in 2015, Edward Share) from the 1940s. It has Pearl Harbor’s name on it, which makes me wonder if someone in Hawaii was trying to capitalize on it. He wrote on the back to Mom, essentially, “It’s worth 18 dollars now, and in ten years you can cash it in for 25 dollars! Not much interest, but cool!” It’s from the 90s — he’d been in the war over fifty years ago by then; I think that’s quite interesting, how he interacted with time.

Thinking of you makes my heart physically hurt. I am tired and sad all the time. What more questions do I have for you? I will try to think of more by next time. I have had the same for too long.

With love,

Alice

Friday once more. How many more of these are there? How are you doing? When’s summer break? It was always a bet on whether it’d be before or after my birthday in elementary school. It ought never to be that late.

Not much has happened this week. I’m still recovering from my fever. I watched several Pirates of the Caribbean movies swaddled on the couch and liked them all quite well. You’ve also seen them, right? I saw them when I was little; you should’ve been there too. We’ve at least been on the Disneyland ride together, which is an apt summary.

I’m doing quite badly lately, but I’m trying to pull through. Suicidal urges are omnipresent. But we got ice cream, which is nice. I try to write more to elevate myself. I’d like to write something worthy of a Sparknotes. A posthumous Sparknotes lest anyone pay actual attention to me. Do you still want to be a cook? I think you’d make a good one. You made great pizzas on my 11th birthday, at least. Mom (Jess) says Mom (Mel) took pre-med and poetry. I wish I could see what she’s written. Technically all I have of her writing is the notes she made in her copy of A Tale of Two Cities. I look at them sometimes. There aren’t very many, but something interests me about them.

My friend showed me a song that reminded me of you. It’s called ‘Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear’. I try not to mention songs that remind me of you because it sounds mockable, but this one I think I’ll mention. Enjoy the weekend, Soren, I miss you.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! Summer approaches us. How are you faring? I’ve caught a fever and am sick for the 100th time; I blame work. Touching other peoples’ groceries for 9 hours a day will do that to you. If you don’t already have a summer job, I’ll throw in my two cents to say I prefer summer camp. There are shorter hours, less illnesses, and weird old men do not speak weirdly to you.

Since it was last Sunday, a cordial Mother’s Day to Mom. You can’t escape motherhood.

Aaron’s flown to Canada. He’s visiting friends right now. I think he’s then going to check out his stepmother’s estate (she’s just passed) and bring whatever he likes back, but I could be getting trips confused and I’m too scared to ask about it since I should know it already. If he brings back something cool, I’ll let you know. His dad collected or worked on vintage architecture (or something, forgive my lopsided brain), which is cool as heck. Apparently I get any vintage books he finds for my collection.

I’ll be resting awhile. Mom wants to write a book about a girl who gets out of a cult, inspired by you. I think it will inherently have problems since she doesn’t know how you are living. I think the best course would be applicability over allegory; that’s probably what she’d do anyway. I wonder what you think of the idea. It’s interesting, at the very least.

With love,

Alice

Happy Saturday (oh no, we’ve jumped into another timeline). How was your week? It’s been very hot these last few days, warmer than California was.

We’re back from Disneyland. They got rid of the fast-pass system with ‘fast-pass-but-you-have-to-subscribe-on-your-phone-for-money’, so, naturally, the park was ridiculously crowded. We went into California Adventure the day we arrived with Laura, one of the kids she works with, his mom, and his aunt. I cried in the Soarin’ Over the World line (it’s not Soarin’ Over California anymore, I’m not sure why). Mom was talking about Cousin Trevor afterwards — apparently he loved Star Wars, and he did not live to see the new rides. She was talking about how he is her age but will not see the new things, and one thing she said stuck to me: “And now he’ll just be in the desert with Princess Leia forever.” I barely knew him. I cried anyway. Too many people just weren’t there.

I was too sad there. Despite the frustration of the lines, I was just too sad. I think I’ve lost all my whimsicality, and I’m just resigned to melancholy now. I wish I’d had non-family friends there; I think that would’ve helped. I am most happy with them. We saw Mamma Mia! yesterday night, my friend was in the ensemble. I felt the same.

This is too much about myself. I want to know you. But you are so far away. Time is the longest sea. Think of yourself and know how valuable your knowledge is. You are still nine when I dream of you.

With love,

Alice

It’s quite late, forgive me. I have been away all day and could not write. I must wake early so I will spare myself to write tomorrow. I wish I had written on Thursday. I will try that next time. Sleep gently.

With love,

Alice

Happy May! I don’t think this holiday’s ever overlapped with me writing before, so that’s cool, even if we never really celebrated it. How are you doing? How’s school? Mom showed me an article from Eugene, apparently a high school teacher gave kids a weird sexual assignment. I hope you weren’t in that class. One of the teachers at the local high school I went to turned out to be a pedophile (he was a bad teacher anyway, I didn’t like him). The school system sucks.

There was a thunderstorm the day before yesterday; the clouds were orangish and we saw lightning outside. It was shocking since we had sunshine the day before that. The cats were scared, Achilles probably went to hide in the basement. He likes going there when people come to visit as well.

There was a frog in the house a few days ago as well. I caught it in a boot since the cats were trying to get it, and we got it outside. Here’s a picture Mom took. (by the way, when I say ‘we’, that generally means me and Mom, and occasionally Aaron. He wasn’t here when this happened.)

I’m trying to be cheerful today. There was something I said to Mom that she said I should tell you, but I’ve forgotten it. I wondered if I’d told you already, so perhaps it’s already here. We’re (Laura, one of the autistic kids she works with, his family, and Mom) going to Disneyland soon and will be back by next Friday, so I’ll have much to tell you about then. You haven’t been since we were little, as far as I know. I’d like to go with you someday.

With love,

Alice

Yesterday we took the chicks to the backyard and let them explore a tiny bit. They seem to like it. It’s been warm the past few days so they were fine in the weather. It’s been too hot, like summer, I kept having to pretend I was excited about it at the grocery store (small talk with the customers, alas, so difficult).

We watched part of a documentary about Judy Blume yesterday, and I thought the things the children were worried about at puberty really weird, because I rarely thought about it. I didn’t think about my period, got my period, cried about it, then mostly didn’t think about it. I wish I’d had a life where my most pressing worries were, ‘what if I get my period last’ or ‘what if I have the smallest breasts in class’. At least in the barrage of other worries I didn’t think about it once. Perhaps I just didn’t have any friends. Did you ever think about stuff like that? You cared what people think more, so I think it’s a little more likely. I don’t remember pre-trauma childhood very well anymore. I wish I could.

Mom told me that Mom (Mel) used to write fiction in college(grad school???). I wish I could read some. Perhaps it would tell me something. Mom is a stranger I see and never know. I don’t know if I ever saw her at all.

It’s time for dinner. Forgive me if this reads more like a sad Christmas list than anything. I want rain, I want Mom. I want to know what you want the most. Until then, this place remains rather diary-esque. Like Jonathan Harker’s diary or Werther’s letters to Wilhelm.

Yours ever,

Alice

Happy Friday! How’s April going? Time infinitely marching on per usual? Probably, but what do I know. Maybe you’re in a time loop.

I caught a fever or cold (or both) a few days ago and I’ve been doing little but sitting in bed for that time. It’s great except for the symptoms of the cold/fever. But I somewhat like being sick as it’s feeling something besides the usual mundanity. Perhaps I should work in a preschool. I woke one night feeling very heavy and lightheaded and felt like I would collapse as I walked. I think it’d be nice to walk in a cemetery like that sometime.

If I say anything usual, it’ll lose its meaning. I do not want it to lose its meaning. But what else can I say? Some of the bits of my life I wouldn’t talk about here since I don’t want anyone else to know. Not even any secrets, just bits. I dislike being known well by strangers.

Mom’s birthday was yesterday. I think she’s 45 now. Happy birthday, Mom. Mom (Jess) said she didn’t like being born on 4/20 because of Hitler and marijuana, but I’d find it funny. Perhaps if I made her birthday presents people would believe I was her daughter. Or that I was just performing. It doesn’t matter. Mom wouldn’t want presents anyway. What did you do yesterday? Who wishes Mom happy birthday?

I’m going to keep sniffling. I still don’t feel quite right. Take rest, Soren.

With love,

Alice

Howdy do! How’s your Friday going? Pearl’s sitting on me right now, so I’m writing with one hand. The chicks are well, and the cats seem to have no ill will towards them, only curiosity. Their red heat lamp constantly emits light, and it’s slightly ominous at night.

Is it warming up back home? I imagine it’s starting to get there. I have hazy, green and yellow-light memories of summer there. Spring is still rainier (but Mt. Rainier is snowy — lol). Most of my memories of spring specifically are of cutting daffodils in the backyard for Mom (Mel). We put them in a (dark turquoise?) jar in the kitchen. I think it was spring when our chickens disappeared, or when one died. The memory is fading now. My brain is a worn, old book in the sun.

Sometimes I think killing myself would make our friends understand that Mom did something wrong. But I know it’s not true. Suicide never causes revelation. Only sadness. Sometimes not that, either. They wouldn’t hear about it anyway. I hope you’ve not thought similarly.

I’m tired today. I’m going to continue resting as my mind declines. I think it’s why these letters are shorter lately. Or perhaps I’ve finally become too repetitively questioning to keep at it without seeming like a wind-up toy. I keep wondering where you are. Where my friends are. What the ground feels like back home. The taste of the air. Please tell me sometime, Soren.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing today? Are you doing anything for Easter or Passover? We’ve not done anything today. I was going to buy Peeps, but the grocery store is closed. I suppose tomorrow. I almost forgot to write since it’s been too unspectacular. I wish holidays still existed for adults. If I get married, I’ll make a game where we both hide eggs, but in different parts of the house.

Mom says she’ll make cookies later. That’s a fun thing I suppose. I barely even remember Easter’s before Mom (Mel) left. I think we searched both in and outside. There was always one egg with money in it, and I think I found it a couple years in a row and felt proud about it. I hope you have more memories than I do. But you are younger, which does not help. I’m glad we both have the Flickr, at least. I love you. Have a fun Easter.

With love,

Alice

April showers continue. There are plenty of May flowers already, but no pilgrims yet. How are you this Friday? I’m doing fairly well, if not, functional in some capacity. We’re about to go pick up more chicks for our backyard. Mom is excited about this. I’m not sure how old they are or if they’ll live inside for now. I don’t trust the older ones to be nice if they’re too little.

My memory is very bad of late, so I can’t talk much of my own experiences. Achilles keeps sitting on my shoulders while I brush my teeth, which is cute. I don’t know. The world feels more cardboardish at the moment. I cried listening to a song about conjoined sisters. The cats are now fighting again. What are you doing now? It’s one of my friend’s spring breaks. We had a sleepover a few days ago, which was pretty fun (I got some books from the bookshop). Are you on yours?

Time skip: we’ve just gone out to get the chicks. They’re three tiny, tiny babies who are super cute and loud. Since the last group we got (three hens) were Ophelia, Desdemona, and Beatrice, I’ve named the second group Rosalind, Juliet, and Hermia (black speckled, lavender Orpington, and brown speckled, respectively). Now I need to read As You Like It (and Romeo and Juliet, if you don’t count the Leonardo DiCaprio movie as having seen the play. It is the same dialogue, no?) to make it so I’ve seen every play named a chicken for. I could’ve called it Cordelia, but oops.

Did you ever get chickens again after ours passed? I could imagine why not. Both the death of one and the rest’s semi-gruesome disappearance were awful. I wonder if Mom (Mel) found them and didn’t tell us; it makes little sense for there to have been no remains. There were with our murdered chickens, though I never saw them.

I think I had another dream of you, but it’s gone away now. That’s why I ought to write them down. I miss you. I’m always on Pinterest.

With love,

Alice

How’s your Friday going? Is it spring break yet? I dyed my hair black a few days ago and quite like it.

I am tired, I worked all day and will do it again tomorrow, so my brain’s on baby mode. I love you. I miss you. I hope to see you again someday. I’ve nothing to say except I’m sad. The cats are cute. You’re wonderful.

With love,

Alice

I was working today and forgot to write, forgive me. The cherry blossoms are blooming now and there are flowers everywhere.

I had another dream with you the night before last. I saw Siena outside of a hotel room, sixteen now, and you in bed inside and hugged you; Mom (Mel) was there and I asked her why. I phased away before she answered. I thought ‘finally, it’s real and not a dream’. But it’s always a dream.

I am very unhappy this evening and haven’t much to write. I’ve decided on a college but it doesn’t feel like anything. Just silence and prospective worries. I don’t think I want anything. I stopped feeling true cheerfulness long ago. I’d like only to sleep now. It is the only place I don’t feel like this. I keep going on for Mom, you, and cowardice. But I don’t tell anyone else but you. I hate putting stones on others’ shoulders. You probably aren’t here, so you can’t be hurt by anything. Mom always tells me to be honest about what happened and being open, but she’s the one who told me to ask Yee Hee their name and where they lived, a stranger on the internet likely suspicious of me, and who blocked me some time after, but it feels more for any onlookers than you in truth. You already know what this is like. You know what what happened to you is like. But perhaps I am being honest anyway. I wouldn’t want to kill myself if Mom hadn’t left. That was the first domino.

I don’t know. I’m tired. I hope I am not reading like Ulysses. Goodnight, Soren. Goodnight, faceless spectator. Goodnight, painful diary, accessible to all who know my name. You cannot be a letter but to the two-way mirror.

With love,

Alice

I wouldn’t write on this holiday specifically if it didn’t fall on Friday, it doesn’t seem important enough of a holiday. How are you doing today? Are you wearing green? I don’t think I will, but I’m always a little afraid of pinching. From who? The ghosts of my third grade classmates, I suppose.

I can’t say I’ve done very much this week, again. The same agonies follow me as usual. I distract from them by YouTube videos and drawing, I vent them in writing (or planning to write, more often). What are you up to lately? I don’t remember much about public school, but it feels as if prom should be about now. Did you/are you going to prom? That could be fun. I have one memory of Mom (Mel) telling me she would show up at my prom night and point me out, saying “There’s my daughter,” and embarrassing me. The idea is a ghost wandering the mind now. But I think I’ve told you that story, and I think you were there anyways.

But again, who knows, perhaps your pre-trauma memory is worse than mine, since you were nine and I was eleven when I went on vacation. I wonder what you remember of me. I wasn’t a very good sister, so I fear the worst of it. I’m sorry for anything wrong of me that you remember, and that you don’t.

I am always doing poorly, but Mom says I’m not allowed to kill myself, so I remain here as long as I can take it. And so I remain to sign off today. I’ll leave you with a picture of Paris sitting in a box of grapes. Little Caligula.

With love,

Alice

The wheel of weeks keeps turning. How are you this week? I am thinking as I write this “What do I say to Soren? I am out of things to say to Soren (that are for decent conversation). That I am sad and mildly suicidal?” That’s not socially acceptable. But then again, I’m not socially acceptable in Eugene, so I suppose nothing I say is okay, so I might as well say anything. Here goes: I am sad and mildly suicidal. We did it.

I had a dream last night I was in a school (that was also a grocery store) going through the halls for fourth grade, where I passed Siena and Lyla in the halls. I went and came back for something, knowing you were around but not where, and scared someone would see me and think I was there for some bad reason. I saw Siena again in the bathroom but we didn’t speak, and I hid. I eventually fled the school with a jar of peanut butter (from the grocery store part). Last night I was screwing around on ancestry.com and found a picture of Pappy in high school from some documents attached to your tree. I started crying. Perhaps that set off the dream.

I finished a story I don’t think will see the light of day. I saw a criticism of Lovecraft’s writing style as antiquated by the standards of his time, incredibly florid, and overwritten. The same applies. I did not check myself in this story.

I got accepted to my favorite college choice, but there is still another that is much cheaper and just as good that I still do not like as much because it is very far away both physically and culturally. What do you think I should do? I don’t want to be selfish with money. Nobody has money anymore. One of the vanilla extracts at the grocery store I work at costs 28 dollars. I’d have to work about three hours to buy that little tincture of vanilla extract. If it’s unreasonable to buy it, why is a preferred college any better, opposed to the 2 dollar vanilla imitator I bought instead?

I’m agonizing at you again. Some good things: my friend got me a little plastic skateboard that my Steven Universe toy fits on very nicely. He can roll about. I’ve made more drawings than normal, though most are cartoons since they are faster than regular faces. I imported my favorite IbisPaint X digital art brush (the one shaped like stars) into the app I prefer to draw on (Procreate). We must try to take on the ideas of that one Sound of Music song occasionally. I have a locket/music box that plays that song. That’s another good thing. Enjoy the day, dear Soren. It is so quiet here.

With love,

Alice

How are you? Achilles is sitting on me right now, and I can only type with one hand. He’s a very sweet boy. I’ve been quite bad this week, and only just managed to pull myself from lying in bed until work. There was a girl there a few days sho who looked quite like you, aged about eleven. Her hair color was different but the same shape of the eyes was the same. I felt as if the world wasn’t real for a moment, that I’d stepped back awake into a dream. It was strange to say ‘have a good one’ like nothing was wrong. I’ve never seen you in crowds like some might, only in sleep.

I’ve finished a short story I was writing, without editing yet, but I don’t think I can ever share it, for it is both too personal and too flawed (and the internet forgives neither). I’ve started a list with Mom’s Ancestry account (you can see your family tree there by the way, documenting (deceptively heterosexually) Mom (Mel) and Aaron’s lines, Mom (Jess)’s being under mine) to try and record the most popular children’s names of 1840s New York, because the history of children’s names is my obscure hobby. Asking what you do with your time feels almost useless, but I will always do it anyway, in case you ever respond. What are your hobbies, and how are you liking them, and how are you doing with them? Are you still doing dance and violin? I have some misty memory of you playing basketball, I think to spend more time with Layla, who played it. It is still so strange to me that you stopped doing gymnastics, because you had loved it so much.

It is a very distant fantasy that I’d ever actually see you at work. But if you would like to come, the door is unlocked. Heaven knows I’d have gone home to Eugene long ago if I could. I love you.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? It snowed the day before yesterday, leaving some on the ground the next day. It’s all gone now, but it will get cold, so maybe there will be more. Has it snowed at home this winter?

I’ve not done much again. I finished a short story, so I suppose it’s on to editing now. I’m close to finishing a drawing, always nice and rather rare. But mostly I am tired and do not like doing anything at all. The few people close to my age at work have said that they went to college and dropped out but may go back eventually. I know two others who’ve said this; neither have gone back. I hope I do not get too depressed and anxious that I also drop out. If there aren’t help-resources, I suppose I should find some Xanax or adderall (depending on the situation) and keep on through. I do not want to work at the grocery store for all my life. Perhaps college should be longer to prevent overwhelm.

I am mostly emotionally distant right now, firmly inside the bell jar. Sylvia Plath’s metaphor was brilliant. I have never described it in such clarity. I need to put some documents in PDFs to apply to a school, but I am too lethargic to stand up. On good news, we’re going to Disneyland in May with cousin Laura. That will be of comfort. I hope you have gone since we were little.

All will be well eventually, I’m just behind the jar glass. I hope you’re well. It is too self-absorbed in this series of letters when I have nothing new to say but that I am sad and you are gone. There is never resolution. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Friday once more! Forgive me for not writing sooner, I was at work from morning to just now. Nine hours socializing is not good for the soul (a few less would do). How are you doing? How are you feeling?

It snowed here but a few days ago at night. Aaron came home from a ball game covered in it. Everyone is sad about the weather but I like it very much (though who can ever confess that; that makes for poor talk to disagree). There is nothing so nice as a good storm or snow, but I am privileged and shortsighted to speak when I say I like the power to go out. Are you waiting for the sun? Is it cold down there? It is usually cold in Eugene. The rain reminds me too well of home, and I like it for that. Perhaps it seems shallow to speak of the weather so much, but I enjoy it; weather has such an effect on emotion that to not speak would feel like deliberate aversion.

I want to go out walking most days, but I find most times that I am too depressed to do so. Depressed is not hyperbole, I am too low to get up. Sometimes I wish I were worse, so something more would be done. It probably wouldn’t be good, but it would be something different. I hope you’re not also mentally ill because of what Mom’s done. It’s quiet, consistent agony that will flare.

I am going to go eat now. I wake early tomorrow. But a few hours to my own time, alas. Goodnight, Soren, sleep well. I can almost see you across from me in your own bed, or beside and below, if I try.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! How are you doing this week? There’s been some sun out over here, and it seems to be getting warmer.

Again, all is quite uneventful. Mom’s birthday is in a few days, and I’ve made her a drawing (shhhh). Laura’s birthday is the day after Mom’s, and I’ve also made her a drawing. They are easy to make and send. Work is tiresome, as usual, but I’ve been able to get some writing and drawing in, the only thing to give life a little interest. An unrequired love is necessary, I think.

Mom found another half-sibling on the DNA 23nMe site, a person whose name I’ll keep quiet since this website is public. Her name is, uh, let’s call her Nova, a similar name. I don’t know much about her yet other than that she’s trans and has Tourette’s (and that Aaron doesn’t have Tourette’s, so it’s probably not from him). Aaron thinks there might be like 70 half-siblings. I couldn’t deal with that many people calling Aaron our (or, just ‘my’, if you’re alright with it) dad. One of them always calls you my half-sister. I correct her, but she doesn’t seem to understand, that you are not the same as some strangers from the internet. We share two parents; we’re as whole siblings as siblings can be.

I’ve just gotten a package from Grandma. It’s a present for Valentine’s Day: a card with a bear holding a heart on it, and a little silver locket with a Celtic symbol on it, in which ‘I Love You Forever’ is carven. It is very pretty. I wish I could send you presents. I technically can now that I have a bank account — but it would be intercepted, wouldn’t it? Perhaps I can send Mom (Mel) something; she would at least see it. But I think both Moms wouldn’t want me to.

I think sometimes that some evening you might show up on our doorstep somehow, having traveled for days by bus and walking to come by. I know it’s more so a childlike idea than anything, but I wish it were a premonition instead of a dream. I miss you. Goodnight, Soren. I thought I saw you at work recently — it wasn’t you. It never is.

With love,

Alice

Happy February! It is very quintessentially February right now. It is raining and windy, but with the undercurrent of green. It snowed a few days ago, but only for a little bit, and it didn’t stick. Has it snowed at all this winter back home? It usually does once or twice.

I have not done much these past few days since I’ve gotten a fever. Other than that, mostly work. I am very dull with nothing to do. The most interesting things I’ve done are doodled and played Undertale (again). What have you been doing? Are you still doing dance and violin? You didn’t care for either of them if I remember correctly, so I hope you are not.

I’ve been accepted to two English colleges. I hate that I will be in another European country before I am in Eugene again. It makes me too sad for comfort. Mom thinks I don’t need a driver’s license since it’ll be useless in Europe (with all the trains), but I would like to drive down there without having to wait for her to want to. We don’t have enough money. Enough for Greece, but not for Eugene; not interesting enough to be worth it, sigh. It’s been so long. I am there in spirit, haunting the Townshend’s.

I dislike pondering the great tragedy of this. There was no hamartia to make us deserving. Perhaps only faultless ignorance. Whoever would have guessed?… The summer of 2016 I spend most of my time pretending to be Aphmau characters on Minecraft servers and writing Warrior Cats fanfiction. I am too tired to seek the adventure I sought therein now. I wonder sometimes if there was any hint there of what was going to happen; I would have lacked enough foresight to ever have seen it. But considering preventions is more of the audience’s role in a tragic play than the characters’. They keep going forward to the end. Good afternoon, Soren, I hope you are doing something nice as I write this.

With love,

Alice

P.S Most of what I’ve written down has been at least partly incomprehensible since I’ve gotten sick, and I’ve never noticed until later. Forgive me if that applies here.

Happy Friday! I’m writing late because I’ve been worked all day. How are you doing?

Again, not much is going on. Work makes me too tired to do much else. I’m trying to draw and write so I don’t fall into doing nothing at all. That’s how school works too, most of the time, except you know when weekends are.

I had another dream about you last night. I was outside a hotel in the desert (like Phoenix) that was famous for being the sight a horror series I like was filmed (in my mind it was Marble Hornets, which was set nowhere near the desert). I saw you through a window. You were speaking, but I couldn’t hear you, and couldn’t lip-read what you were saying. I think something was taking you away from the inside. I tried to get through the door beside the window but couldn’t. I kept walking outside the building trying to find a way in and couldn’t. That’s all that I remember. The rest decays into miscellany.

Forgive that I am tired and boring. I find most of my life’s interest in dreams. The rest seems dull or worrisome. Even nightmares like that one provide some doorway from the waking day. The rest is in writing, though I am not very good at it. You were always better at writing than me; I only did it more often, to my memory. Goodnight, now, Soren, sleep well. We’re affected upon by the same sun. The moon we see is the same one. I like to ruminate on it for comfort.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? January treks onwards. I suppose you’ve had much time to enjoy your presents and cake by now. How are they?

I got accepted to work at the local grocery store and just got back. Putting groceries in bags is more stressful than it looks, but it’s not too bad. I go to my other job at camp in but an hour. My feet will hurt so much soon. I hope you are focusing more on homework than work, for while both are labor, homework’s more important (and simultaneously far worse).

Other than that, not much of interest is happening, per usual. Applying to colleges is a nightmare, per usual, I write and draw, per usual, and I live in constant anxiety and lethargy, per usual. Three cheers? Mom’s really into Prince Harry for the past couple years, which resurged now that he’s written a book. Maybe we’ll buy it? Who knows. That’s all that happens on the news, besides the murder trials she follows, and the common misery (I try to avoid it all).

I should start formatting these like radio stations or something: weather, traffic, news. The skies are clear. The roads are normal. The news is dismal, broad news and personal. I miss you each day. I half-lied to someone during small talk yesterday because ‘well, my sister lives in Oregon because my mom kidnapped her several years ago’ isn’t socially acceptable. People can get weird about it (not so much awkward but silently angry that you would bring up such a thing in the first place). Alas, alas. Why must our older years be so terrible? But still, it’s clear out, and we have good snacks, so that’s something. I hope you have that too. I love you. Enjoy yourself today.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! How are you doing? I’m quite busy with college applications and whatnot, which is more than a little stressful. How is school? Have you ever noticed that ‘how is school?’ is the only question adult acquaintances like to ask?

I can’t say much of importance has happened in the past two days. I might be working at the grocery store, which is a little stressful. Have you worked anywhere? I know these questions must get repetitive for you if you’re here. Let’s think of something more fun: what’s the coolest name you’ve ever seen on a grave? What’s your favorite soap flavor? What’s your least favorite aphorism? My own answers: Silvius Underwood, Strawberry Snowflakes (from Bath and Body Works), ‘you can’t love anybody until you love yourself’ (for what would I be doing here if it were true?).

Well, I suppose there is little else to say this week. Someday soon I will try to pester Mom to drive us to Eugene once more before I’m off to college (I don’t have a drivers license, or my own car), because I strongly dislike that I can say I was in Greece more recently than I was in Eugene. It feels like something God wouldn’t allow. I’ll leave you with a picture of Paris that looks just a little bit like a surrealist painting.

With love,

Alice

Happy sweet sixteen, Soren! 🎊🎉🎂 What are you doing today? Have you opened presents yet, are you having friends over? I hope there is lots of fun planned for you. Sixteen is a very hyped-up year, isn’t it? You must look forward to your own teen movie that ends when you turn seventeen, with, as every teen ever experiences, boyfriend, party, Friday night?…

Let us pray again that your present sends:

We did it! Wooo! This is from another photograph of you from when you were six or seven, again, due to the lack of modern photographs. In the photo you were with Kian holding his and Siena’s cat Toffee (who I ought to have included), likely at a sleepover. I hope you like it, and I hope it’s a fair likeness. I won’t know what it actually looks like until about a year from now, as with all my drawings.

As with always, this day is quite sad for me. A few years ago, Mom bought little pink cupcakes on this day. I wish we had them today; I wish I could give you some. I love you, Soren, and I wish you the happiest sixteenth birthday one could ever have.

With love,

Alice

Happy 2023! I haven’t written it incorrectly yet, which is perhaps my biggest accomplishment this year. How are you doing? Do you have any resolutions? I suppose my only one is to keep writing consistently. It’s far easier to deal with the concept of a new year when considering that time is completely made up. I tried to go to bed early but knew when midnight came because of distant fireworks, and couldn’t sleep because of them. Did you stay up?

Not very much has happened, per usual. I’m sure the most interesting thing I did this past week was go to the grocery store. It is cloudy outside, my preferred weather, but I haven’t gone walking in a long time. I feel too tired all the time. I presume the weather hasn’t cleared up there yet? It doesn’t usually until like June.

Your birthday is soon, what do you want? I can’t see you in my mind as much older than nine, for it’s been far too long… But I won’t play the broken record again. Are you having a party? Are you seeing friends? I remember my birthdays are becoming less exciting over the years; I wonder if it is due to trauma and friendlessness, or because happiness is more commonly assumed to be the realm of children than adulthood. Perhaps something of both. Has it been the same for you? I hope not, you deserve better.

I will write to you on the day, of course. And if you are not here, I am waiting as a long-ago sent letter in the mail, still there no matter the time. If I imagine that you are reading these, I feel a little less like a lost and hopeless fish in the midnight zone, and see a faint ray of light from above.

With love,

Alice

Achilles is sleeping on my lap, demanding pets and making it hard to write. How are you doing? Any plans this evening? We’re having dinner with friends, as I mentioned, and I must go help clean in a minute.

As the years advance I’m becoming increasingly aware of the advancing one decade since we went away. How very like my own fault it sounds that way. That I had known, alas… I wish you happiness in the coming year. Part of me wishes you didn’t care about us at all, that would make you happier, likely. But what’s the hope in that? Happy New Year, Soren, I wish you firecrackers and cheer, and a firmly-adhered to resolution if you wish. I just hope to keep writing consistently (stories, not to you, which is nearly always consistent). I love you.

With love,

Alice

How inconvenient it is that Friday didn’t fall on New Year’s! Happy New Year’s Eve Eve then. This would make one holiday Eve Eve too many. Then again, I would enjoy a Halloween Eve Eve. How are you doing this second Eve Eve after the first Eve Eve?

Basically nothing has happened here. We’ll have one of my friends over tomorrow for dinner and perhaps a sleepover. Have you any plans for New Year’s Eve? I hope you have something nice planned. It has just dawned on me that you’re nearly sixteen. What an insane thing to think of; my idiot brain is telling me, “I can’t believe my nine-year-old sister is nearly sixteen.” My last pictures of you are from when you were about eleven (courtesy of Grandma, and I think of some speech you gave at Roosevelt). Alas, how sad it is; what do you even look like? If you’d like pictures of me you must go to the Flickr. I dislike my face too much to post them here, especially when they’re easily accessible. If not Flickr, Mom’s Instagram.

Let’s not think about this. I am too old for comfort. “What do you mean, college, I’m like thirteen!”

Here’s something nice to think about. Here’s a picture of Grandma’s cat, McKelvey (Mckelvy???). Mabel passed on some time ago, I think I’ve mentioned. He’s quite nice now that he doesn’t hate us. I’ll leave you with him, the sweet boy. There’s not been anything else interesting enough to talk about.

With love,

Alice

Merry Christmas! This morning went by fairly smoothly. How was Christmas morning? What did you get, was it what you wanted? I got lots of things, among which are a nice black overcoat, a book of poetry from the 1930s, and our grandma’s grandma’s (Mary Westerfield, née. Wearsch) sister Ruth’s sewing machine, made 1916 at the latest. She died at age eight in 1916 and Great Grandma framed it. I’ve wore my garnet locket with your face in it all day. It felt a right, and a little less lonely.

The snow is all gone, and it rained all day. That’s alright, we’ve had a lot of it anyway, earlier and more so than any previous year on Vashon. Did it snow? Grandma told me about yesterday that it was in the 60s there, so I would suppose not. At least it’s warm. Has the day been nice? I dearly hope so. I’ve enjoyed it well enough. I made Grandma a watercolor of cats and she liked it, which was quite nice. But it is always sad, so I must try to ignore and ‘make merry’ as they say. I’ve been reading A Christmas Carol (excellent, if you’ve not, and we also watched A Muppet Christmas Carol last night, equally excellent), and think it better to look at Tim’s lonely cane and celebrate that he was here at all when you can do nothing to return him. But my heart’s not practical like that.

Enjoy Christmas dinner, and whenever it is, know that I’m there in spirit, if not having dinner at the same time, eating fruit-flavored tootsie rolls (Great Grandma kept those in a little bowl at her old folks’ home, addictive). I miss you every night and especially this one. I hope some fun and cheer came to you today. It’s been 2,190 days since Mom said, “John, get Soren upstairs,” and only six Christmases between them.

With love,

Alice

Merry Christmas Eve, Soren, it’s nearly dinner now. What are you doing now? Is Mom making dinner? Mom will be making a big dinner tomorrow. The rain poured the snow away, so there’s only a tiny bit left. Here is a picture of the tree, posted successfully.

I moved a garbage bag in order to take this picture, thinking it unsightly, and then realized it had presents in it. Oopsie daisy. You can see the corner of a Santa light, which I think Great Grandma and Grandpa once owned. We have only bought a few more ornaments since they all went into storage in about 2015. There are a glowing one of the rose from Beauty and the Beast and a singing one of Elsa in Frozen 2, one with a Norse rune (new, from this year), and Aaron has a purple cat (which Mom calls psychedelic). Have you gotten any new ones?

I always try to put your ‘S’ ornament front and center, but I don’t think you can see it in this one. But I always feel your lack of presence regardless. I always cry on Christmas recently, I think that is why. My only half-memory of you on Christmas is you wearing wax lips one year. My only Christmas-related memory of Mom (Mel) (pre-2016) is her showing me ‘Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo’ from South Park. Thanks, Mom. I suspect you would’ve liked it better, but I don’t remember if you were there. I wish it were something more important or sentimental. I could joke about it, but it’s not funny.

The atmosphere is still gloomy, especially because of Cousin Trevor. Skim over this if you’re cheerful and read it some other time. I miss you, Soren. Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Merry Christmas Eve Eve. Snow fell a few days ago, but it’s raining now, so the ground is covered in ice. How are you doing? I suppose some festivities are in order by now, at the very least Hanukkah each night. Every night I’ve wondered if your menorah is lit at the same time as mine.

Grandma arrived yesterday with the cat McKelvey (sic???) and Trooper the squirrel. I do not know if I’ve mentioned this by now, but her other cat, Mabel, passed on some time ago. She told me yesterday that we lost Cousin Trevor. Seven days younger than Mom (Jess), and died yesterday. I still do not know if we’ll attend the funeral. Mom grew up with Cousin Trevor, so I would not be surprised. I hear Grandma playing guitar and singing downstairs as she always likes to do. I hope she and Mom are alright.

The holidays are always the worst time of year for me, forgive the very Scrooge-like attitude. Each year I am sorely reminded of how very alone we are, each without one sister, one mother, and one half of an entire extended family. I am always lonely on Christmas especially, among the musical and movie(-cal?) declarations of the most wonderful, familial season. At least Grandma is here. Has anyone come to visit you? Now or in years past?

Forgive me, Soren, I am gloomy. My antidepressants seem to be taking a holiday. Trevor was Mom’s first cousin. I’m trying to remember if we even have first cousins; I can’t even remember, I think so, but who? Chris, John, Malcolm, Charles, Gia? How very apathetic that would sound upon anyone else. Have you put up the plastic tree? Mom (Jess) and I have all the ornaments, don’t we? I hope you have gotten more than the ones I remember on the plastic tree. How lonely and impersonal it could feel otherwise. I hope you’re more optimistic than I am, otherwise you’d be unhappy all the time with thoughts like that. Would you be happier if you forget Mom and I had lived entirely? I’d think most likely, but who would forget anything like that.

I’ll write to you tomorrow, dear Soren. I’ll send you a picture of the Christmas tree if I can remember to do so. And the day after I will tell you what I’ve gotten for Christmas and perhaps send pictures of the cats playing with wrappers. They always do that. It’s delightful. I leave you with that pleasant image.

With love,

Alice

Happy Hanukkah!! I was very confused about when it started, because the calendar says it’s tomorrow, but google says it’s today — Mom says it’s today. We’ve just lit the Menorah. I’ll try to send a picture.

It did it (knocking on wood)! We bought candles early because last year they were all sold out. Has that ever happened to you?

Hanukkah is a very personal holiday to me. It represents never giving up on my mother no matter what she says or does. You’re not here, Mom, but you always will be. The candle has burned for six years, and it will burn for six years more. I don’t know much about Judaism. Teaching myself would feel so sad, because Mom didn’t do it. I may go on a trip to Israel when I’m 18 on a program (don’t misunderstand my thoughts on the war — I am with Palestine). I think learning from them might be healing. I read in a book I like that the protagonist’s trip to Jerusalem was healing for her. Perhaps I will feel something like that, in between the sunburns.

An important piece of family news: Cousin Trevor (Aunt Linda and Uncle Terry’s son, seven days younger than Mom(Jess)) suffered a fall and is in the hospital. He survived surgery but is in a coma, and may or may not wake. Mom grew up with him and Cousin Trisha. Our whole family is terrified. Grandma will likely be very sad and worried this Christmas. If he passes, we may fly out to Ohio for the funeral. I know you never met him (to my memory), but you deserve to know what is happening in the family. You are, after all, a part of it. I believe it only happened today, if not, yesterday.

I hope your candles are also lit right now. I will think of you every night. I remember playing dreidel and eating chocolate gold coins while we were together. We are not so far apart, Soren. Look at the moon; I am under the same one.

With love,

Alice

How are you this Friday? I’m doing fairly well. Still working on that research paper for college recommendation, not fun but alas, what can you do. Has winter break started for you yet? If not now then soon, I hope.

Mom and I went to Portland on Friday and returned on Saturday night. Many of the lights on the highway were purple — have you seen that in Eugene? I thought they were very beautiful. Cousin Ryan seems well; he’s editing stuff for some sort of gardening magazine, which seems a pleasant thing to write about all day. We went to the library Powell’s and Voodoo Donuts. Portland doesn’t seem as well-kept as it did years ago. I wonder what happened. We stayed at McMenamins, which is always a nice hotel. Have you been to once since we last spoke? I recall faintly Siena showing me a big book of Pokémon cards in one, but I don’t remember where it was. At least Oregon, most likely.

Little else has happened since. We have a new fridge now and can buy necessary-to-be-totally-frozen things again. I’ve had several popsicles this cold December. My brain is very scattered today and I don’t think there is much important to tell you; I could complain about television or lament my fallen art practice, but neither seem very cheerful. Let me give you some things cheerful: the cats are very sweet today. I have a pomegranate in the fridge. I’ve almost finished a book I like, a rarer accomplishment these days (perhaps I need to regress to middle-grade). Tell me some things like this someday. Something cheerful in the after-years of sorrow.

With love,

Alice

I’m writing early because I won’t be able to tomorrow. I’m working all day and then we’re going out of town to see cousin Ryan. I’m glad to go on a road trip. I haven’t seen him since Mom (Jess) and I were in New York in late 2015. How very less worrisome life seemed. I didn’t know that Halloween in Florence that the last Halloween where I’d see you had passed, nor the last Christmas at Sara’s (surname blanked for privacy, though I think both her first and last name are common enough) house in Ohio. Alas, it feels selfish now that I ever went on vacations instead of staying home. That was my hamartia.

I won’t tell you where we’re going, but we will be in Oregon. I don’t like shouting my location into the internet box, however unlikely murder is.

There’s little to say again. My non-Mom-application-recommendation-letter-motivated research paper is researchly stressful. I have to go to a work party dressed as a Friends character, equally stressful. How are you? I hear midterms are a thing that exists. I hope you’ve done or will do well; tests are awful. And I got to take mine mostly alone. I send you my belief in you. Even if you get an F- and fail out of school, I still miss you the same.

Christmas is always the saddest time of year for me. I wonder if you heard Mom yelling or me crying outside in 2016. The first thing I forgot about you and Mom (Mel) were your voices, but I can still hear her saying, “Soren’s not available,” and “John, get Soren upstairs.” Why, oh why, oh why. Was it not frightening to be taken upstairs? Why would Mom do that to you?… Did she traumatize both of us that day?

I remember one day in the car Mom (Mel) telling me she’d be there at my prom; she said she’d be up on a podium or suchlike and point me out, say “That’s my daughter,” and embarrass me. I still think about it often.

Maybe I’ve mentioned that one before. I don’t remember much anymore; I keep a diary because of it. Here’s the ‘every memory I have of Soren’ document. Perhaps you’d like to see it. There’s much speculation. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JWhid5aRO3SQGAUloT7PNMJ7NvLom5OFzR1iFPrlQOI/edit

I’m going to go scoop litter. I love you. Goodnight.

With love,

Alice

Forgive me again for forgetting to write. I am increasingly forgetful. I’m sorry.

It snowed on Tuesday, and continued for a few days. It’s never snowed here this early, at least to my memory. Has it snowed there? Have you gotten snow? I don’t think there was the last winter I was there, in December of 2016 and the months following. But it was cold, it’s always cold. I hope you don’t dislike it. I’ve always liked it, at least more than Mom (Jess).

I am very low today. I have a migraine and a research paper to write. At least I can put it off until Monday. Are you well? I find that walking helps, if you’re allowed out. Our neighborhood is relatively safe, right? Besides technically being by the grocery store where something bad happened. Mom (Mel) told me about that at the store across from it once, but I don’t remember the details. Forgive the vague language, I’m trying not to give away where you live. Still, we were always outside with the neighbors when younger. The biggest danger was Isaiah’s electric scooter and the snakes in the stone bench. Were those snakes even real?

I think I ought to take a walk. It’s always time to do so when I’m thinking ‘the horrors are unending’. We’re getting a new fridge soon since our freezer doesn’t work well. At least I have popsicles to look forward to. I hope you have your own metaphorical popsicles. I love you.

With love,

Alice

P.S My name ranked in the top 70 for popularity last year. Your name is also popular for boys. I wonder if we’ll ever meet other Sorens and Alices?

Forgive me, Soren, for forgetting to write until late. The holidays have knocked my sense of time out again. How are you doing? How are the leftovers? I had pumpkin pie for breakfast, which was very nice. The bread wreath will supply us for months (read, a week perhaps).

I only talked of the holiday yesterday so I would have something to say today, but I forgot nothing much happened again. Mom asked me today if I’d like to visit Portland to see cousin Ryan on December 10th, which I said yes too. She said “it’s hard” to visit Eugene. Forgive me if this is ungrateful: harder than Greece? But I won’t be too rude. I was glad to visit Oregon at all for my AP test last May, and I’ll be glad to see it again. But I’m always drawn to Eugene like to a black hole. I never stop thinking about it, especially when close, especially when traveling off of the island. Mom suggested our next vacation to be to Hawaii; I didn’t want to bring the mood down, or speak against her vacation intentions, but I thought all the time that I wanted to go to Eugene instead. But that isn’t fun enough for a vacation, is it. I suppose we are socially banned from most of it, aren’t we. The last time (or perhaps the time before) we were there, we saw Layla and her mom (and perhaps her brother?) at a Michael’s, and they seemed to hurry out away from us, as if I were Sam Sheppard.

I think it is all of this that had made me so bad at socializing; when Mom left, she took all of my friends’ moms with her, and now none of them would want their children to see me. I wonder if even the less-connected ones know of it and would avoid me the same. Would Eleni try to avoid talking to me? Mia? I saw Yasmin(e?) (the classmate, not Siena’s mom) at Charlemagne in winter of 2017, where we both got the idea to go sledding when it snowed, but we did not speak. Were we both awkward or did her parents tell her to avoid me? Do they all think I’m awful? I know I’ve been mean before, but would they think me capable of whatever great ill that made everyone leave me? I’m glad that Terah moved away. We barely speak, but she didn’t leave me like everyone else did. I’m glad Sophia moved before this happened even if I never saw her again; we fought so much, but it was in our own hands, and not an inexplicable ink stain covering a now-illegible third of a book. I think I’ll never have real friends again. I’ve been alone too long now. Olivia spoke to me when I asked after you outside of Roosevelt in spring of 2018, but Sofia did not remember me, or pretended not to. I remember Olivia so fondly for it. She’s the only pre-trauma acquaintance to ever be kind to me, excepting those who wouldn’t have ever seen Soren or Mom, like Mme. Katherine.

I’ve ranted for too long now. Feel free to skip past this one if the long paragraphs remind you of English class too much. I think far too much sometimes. It’s all I’ve had to do for a third of my life. If you ever see Auden, please apologize to him for me, for harassing him in 2nd and 3rd grade. I would understand his unkindness. I’m going to bed now, I’ve thought too much again. I wish my head worked this well during school. Goodnight, Soren, I hope you’re sleeping well back home. I hope my bed is still across from yours.

With love,

Alice

Happy Thanksgiving! I’m watching a recording of the parade right now. SpongeBob just passed by. How are you doing? Are you doing anything for dinner? Mom made a bread wreath and onion dip. Aaron will make pie later. The parade has more advertisements than I remember; I suspect it’s always been this way.

I dislike colonialism and the legacy thereof, so this holiday has always bothered me. But in lieu of the generally positive thankfulness theme, I’m thankful for you, even if you’re not here. I’m thankful for Mom, even if she’s not here. I’m thankful for family, even if they’re not here. To have the memory, however nearly gone, is good.

If you think of me today, I hope you think of me fondly. Know I am thinking of you very fondly. I will be watching the Addams Family Values scene where Wednesday calls out the treatment of native Americans by colonial forces and burns down the summer camp during the Thanksgiving play. I am thankful for that scene.

With love,

Alice

Friday once more. How are you doing? I went out for a walk yesterday and there were many leaves on the ground; it feels like the depths of fall finally, but winter is already a few minutes away. Alas, at least it’s cold now.

Not too much has happened this week — as with every week, it seems — I’m describing this consistent monotony paired with being mentally ill as going Emily Dickinsane, a phrase I don’t think my doctor would approve of, lol. I convinced myself to go out on the walk, though, which was quite nice. The local Goodwill-esque shop has vintage items but they’re pretty new compared to the vintage shops in Greece; more 80s things and not enough 1800s things. It makes sense. I hope to keep wandering around. When we lived in Aaron’s (the one you know) tiny house in December 2016- June 2017, wandering was one of my better hobbies. I wish the cemetery here was as close as the one in Eugene. And Prince Puckler’s.

Achilles has started to sleep on my arm, which is making writing hard. He’s a sweet boy. I saw a cat online today who looked like Fang. Do you still think about Fang occasionally? I do. I think often that I lost 3/4s of my close family in the span of a few months. I watched a documentary a man made about his mother and childhood in the more southern-esque lands, and it made me quite sad because it reminded me of the Mikells. Mom then tried to make me accept Aaron (the one you don’t know) as family, another blow to the door I’ve been trying to keep locked for six years now. Sigh. Where’s that one meme? “Stop trying to make fatherhood a thing. It’s not going to happen.” Lol.

Anyways, I hope you’re well and I wish I had something more interesting to say. I have to write a research paper to get a recommendation letter from someone who isn’t Mom. Still trying to understand the difference between a research paper and a normal essay. If you know, let me know. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! November crawls forth. It looks more like how October was supposed to but didn’t until the end. How are you doing? I would suppose winter break is about exactly a month from now. I wish you best of luck until then.

We’ve not done much this week either. Aaron went to stay with his friend to help her while she’s sick, so we hold up the computer to Jeopardy for him every night. Mom and I have been watching documentaries and old movies while he’s gone. Gone with the Wind lasted all my life. I might ask ‘what have you been doing for fun lately?’ but I don’t know what you did for fun before lately. What do you do for fun? The last I remember, infinite years ago, you liked Ihascupquake and Yandere Simulator (presumably watching others play it, as Mom (Mel) didn’t know what it was about to my memory, lol). I mean, when I was nine I liked documentaries about crime and writing stories about cats — wait, that hasn’t changed much.

I’ve tried to make a document of all the memories that I have of you, before they grow too slim, and the list is very short thus far. I ought to have made one when I was 12, but I didn’t think it would go on this long. I remember saying to Mom in fall of 2017, “Maybe we’ll have Soren back in time for Halloween!” and her acting confused. I don’t know what I might have done if I’d known otherwise. Alas, alas. Half of them were just memories where you were present, not memories of you, and so insignificant as well. No birthdays, no holidays, only ‘one time we went through a Starbucks drive-thru and you got a mocha, if this memory isn’t a complete fabrication’. At least we have the flickr, though the amount of creeps who look at our photos is uncomfortable (prospective creeps — don’t).

At least here is one upside: when it’s been eight years in 2024, I can start singing it like in that one My Chemical Romance song. Sigh. I’m going to go eat, now. Maybe if I can add more to the document I’ll post it. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Forgive me, I forgot to write until late! Holidays have thrown time off once again. How are you? How are you doing?

I’ve already eaten all the candy, got more at work, and ate that too. Aaron’s gone to stay with a sick friend for awhile, so Mom and I are watching whatever we like. Keep a secret for me: I am sick of TV shows. There are far too many of them. I have desperately tried to read more, but always fail; I think my screens are robbing me of my other hobbies, alas, alas!… I hope only for something else for you. I sometimes wish they’d never been invented, but then I could not write to you, which makes this worth it.

I did little today but work, and nothing this week that I remember, so I have little of interest to tell you. My doctor gave me a book called The Beekeeper’s Apprentice which I enjoy very much, and which my addiction issues (I cannot call them anything more delicate, and less prone to scrutiny, for I cannot think of any better word) keep me from. You liked the fairy books once, I think, those with titles like Sophie the Rose Fairy and suchlike. I can’t think of anything else. I can’t even be sure of it. Time is a pit of mud to me and all my memories lost coins. It has been far longer for you, though, so I have little to complain of; between ages nine and eleven is a pit that has made your time away from me far longer than mine from you, and if your memory is like mine you have suffered far more for it.

Forgive me for not writing much: it is late and I work early tomorrow. Tomorrow’s sleep will be better. I would send you good dreams were I magical, but alas. Sleep well. Do not fall into the temptation to stay up past 1 AM; the devil of daytime scheduling has been cruel to me for it. On weekends, like today though, it is alright. Goodnight, dear Soren. I wait here for you always.

With love,

Alice

Happy Halloween!! What did you do today? I cobbled together a few items and dressed up as Dorian Gray. Did you dress up?

We didn’t do too much until this evening. Tonight we just walked through downtown and walked through a few spooky attractions and collected some candy (awkwardly, being old people). It was super fun! I do wish I’d had some friends to do it with. Is there anything going on in Eugene tonight? Despite the brief resurrection of spirits and ghosts, of course. We watched Midsommar (or rather, I watched the beginning and end and had to leave in the middle), and the parts I saw were rather disturbing. I won’t go into detail; if you dislike gore and general disturbing imagery, don’t watch it. Do you watch horror? I prefer literary horror, since it’s generally more suspenseful and frightening rather than traumatizing like movies.

I hope you got something like candy tonight. I hope you had fun, or are having fun right now. I imagine in the best world that you will come home and read this; in the worst world, you’ve never seen these messages at all. I hope you are here. I wish I was there. Goodnight, Soren; sleep well.

With love,

Alice

It’s almost Halloween now! How are you doing? I’ve been doing little but work for the past few days. I’ve washed the same dishes more times than most at this point.

Aside from this, little is happening. A little drawing, a little writing, little else. Aside from gymnastics, violin, cooking, and watching IHasCupquake I can remember few of your hobbies. Sometimes I think I’m going mad. If nobody believes we are sisters, then how long might it take for us to be convinced? I remember our childhoods, do I not? Do I not see Melanie Mikell’s name on the ink in my baby-book described as ‘parent’? Did she never say “I will teach him to be kind and make muffins.”? Will that she said that ever stop making me want to cry? I am mad — nominative determinism is real, it seems.

I remember that when Pop Pop returned from the war that his eyes had changed color. I don’t remember if they changed from brown to blue or blue to brown. I doubt I’ll ever know now. Pappy liked to tell stories to us, but he won’t ever again. Not to us.

I’m sad again. It’s cold here now. I’m worried about college. I don’t want to study somewhere hot, but it seems the warm places are the cheapest ones. I miss you. I am now relating my trauma to a famous song from a very silly musical: I won’t name which one for fear of mockery from onlookers. Silly musicals are becoming my bread and butter. I’m not coherent today, Soren, forgive me. I worked for 21 hours over the course of three days, almost always standing up. I’m going to go scoop the cats’ litter. I love you.

With love,

Alice

P.S My language is deteriorating into Victorian nonsense; this is because I read too much. I’ve done little to prevent it and I’m slowly forgetting how to speak normally. Forgive me for sounding like Dorian Gray.

How are you doing? It’s close to Halloween now. Are you dressing up? I’m not sure I’ll get to. There was smoke in the air yesterday. I thought it was foggy and cloudy, but it was largely smoke. But it’s cloudy today, and raining. I’m glad of it. Is it similar down there? I hope whatever fire caused the smoke here is not causing smoke there. There weren’t so many fires pre-trauma. I don’t remember any from when we were children. But I don’t remember anything, so perhaps I’m wrong.

Not much has happened this week. The only particularly new thing is that we went to see my friend Emily in a play last night, which was quite enjoyable. I do like going out at night. I saw a raccoon wandering by the ferry terminal, avoiding encounters with the people there. You’re a sophomore now, are you not? I wonder if your high school holds plays, that would be fun.

Since summer camp isn’t assigning me to work as much, I might need to get another job to afford college. That sentence sounds very adult, doesn’t it? And very American. I’ll probably go to the grocery store or somewhere like it. I’d like to work at one of the bookstores since you probably don’t do much and get to read. Have you worked at all? No matter the case, it won’t do much for tuition if you go to college here. As if a highschooler could make about 80,000 dollars when school exists, lol. I’m planning on going to college in Europe, where it will be less expensive. Have you any idea of what you’ll want to study? I personally want to study archaeology and ancient history/art history.

I’m glad it feels like October now. I wish I had more to talk about. I love you dearly.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! It is still sunny here — a great tragedy. Not too much has happened this week. Paris and Achilles have been fighting quite violently (nominative determinism, alas), and Mom has emailed someone to finally get them neutered. A photo from Greece has miraculously uploaded; let’s hope it sticks!! It’s one of my favorite pictures: a cat in front of the Parthenon. It is so small and the ruin is so big; it is so young and the ruin is so old. It’s also super cute and I love it so much.

Lyla from my second grade class at Charlemagne passed away recently. Mom came in this morning to tell me; she cried and described her as having been nice to everyone. If you go to the same high school, you’ve certainly heard about it. She was so kind. She called me Ally-Kat, and I called her Lylie-Kat in turn. I hope she is resting now. Oh, poor Lyla… I hope her family and friends are receiving all the comfort in the world. If you go to the same school, then please leave something at her memorial for me. A daisy would be enough. Perhaps there is some comfort in knowing she was loved enough for the entire school to try to honor her.

Mom worried it was you that died, as she couldn’t see the article about Lyla’s passing (it was behind a paywall). I sometimes think about how if you died, I would not know about it until perhaps weeks after it happened. Perhaps it would take years for you to find out if I died. I do not know if you can use the internet, after all. I hope you do not die, Soren, although I know the temptation intimately. I try not to tell you what to do, but please spend time with your friends, if you can. They are a balm against sorrow.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? We got back home from Iceland on the second. I have learned that our cats are fat compared to the ones in Greece. I’ve tried to convince Mom to switch to wet food (which is healthier and less likely to make them too fat) but she hates the way it smells. At least they seem fine. I missed them so much.

It’s been foggy since we got back. I’m glad of it, I missed the cold weather. I suppose it must be similar back home? I miss the frost on the grass outside of Charlemagne. I miss the rain outside. I miss remembering what it was like. I don’t remember much anymore. Grandma, who watched the cats, told me about a memory from when she was four years old in such detail. I only have shifting shapes and words. I’m told that it’s because of depression. The first thing I forgot about you and Mom were your voices. I wonder if I’d recognize them now. Mom (Jess) jokes that we can’t make decisions when you’re not here. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does to hear jokes about you.

Other than that, not much is up. The gap year is quiet thus far. I am increasingly worried about college. As if I can handle public school, after the disaster of two months of Vashon public freshman year. I guess we must see what happens. Have you thought of college yet? I can’t remember anything that you might want to study. I’m not entirely sure what I want to do; archaeology was always listed just to have something there. I thought that I would be dead before I had to consider it.

One of my last memories of you is from the hotel we went to in May-June-ish of 2016 with Layla. You told me your favorite color was purple; I said I thought it was pink. I’m glad to remember it, though I don’t know if it’s still true. For all my lost memories, at least I can say, “Soren’s favorite color was purple once.”

With love,

Alice

P.S. WordPress won’t let me send pictures. I think it’s because I have no storage space this time. I will try to fix it.

I’m currently in a rental car in Iceland. We are flying home the day after tomorrow. Aegean airlines completely destroyed Mom’s bag — they took our bags because they were heavy, and Mom’s came back ripped to uselessness and the souvenirs were broken. I say this to recommend not flying there ever. Iceland is quite like Oregon. It is cold and wet in the same way, but there is more fog and fewer trees. It is a relief to be somewhere closer to our climate. How are you back home? Is everything well?

We were in Santorini before we left yesterday. The buildings aren’t all white like the pictures suggest, but most of them are, and it’s quite nice. We had two overlays; one was in Athens, the other London, which was largely uneventful. Mom bought a magazine about the Queen’s life. I’m sure you know she’s passed by now. I don’t think prince Charles is nice, but I can’t stop succession. Doesn’t it sound medieval to hear about the king? Thou hast hearest with certainty, o sister of my blood, of the long-awaited succession of Charles III?

It’s almost October, one of the better months. Halloween approaches. I hope you are excited. I hope you are okay. I rarely am, but it’s something one must wait for. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Although it’s technically Thursday there, I wanted to write this quickly because I don’t know how the WiFi will be at the next hotel. How are you doing? What’s going on over there? I do hope it’s cooled down by now. It is very warm here: we’ve been to the beach three times, and it’s almost October.

Although it’s been rather eventful, my depression-induced memory issues has smoothied all of it together. We hiked a large gorge in Samaria, Crete, and now three of my toenails are purple. We went to three beaches, two with pinkish sand, and the last hotel we were at had the cutest cutest kitten who begged for sardines and stole pasta off of Mom’s plate. Speaking of, is KitKat still wandering the neighborhood back home? I hope she’s been adopted right now, it was absolutely tragic that the Santiagos just left her when they moved. Many of these cats have slight injuries, one of them was limping in Athens, and another was so worryingly skinny, but most of them seem to get by; I hope KitKat has done the same.

There are many things I think you would like here. The beaches are always warm and pretty, the shopping streets full of delightful trinkets, and the cats are everywhere. I can’t guess with any accuracy what you would like anymore. You were not as interesting in ancient history and mythology as I was, so I wouldn’t think the ruins to your exceptional liking, at the very least. It’s almost time to go now. I must hurry off. I love you dearly. Seeing others have affectionate relationships with their own siblings fills me with such envy, Soren. But I know we are different now. If you wish it, I will wait forever.

With love,

Alice

I’m sorry I’m late!! We flew from Athens to Crete yesterday and I forgot the day — I will try to remember better next week. Time makes no sense to me anymore. At least it is early back there, so it will send barely into Saturday. How are you doing? How is school going?

The last week has been hectic. I’ve been on three planes and seen a ridiculous amount of historical sites. We had a layover in Montreal on the way to Athens, which Aaron doesn’t think qualifies as having been to Canada, which I think is wrong. What do you think? I’ve taken over fifty (not exaggeration) cat pictures. There are so many, so many cats. Just about an hour ago I pet a friendly one next to a restaurant. He bit me the few times he rolled over (while purring, very mixed signals), but there isn’t rabies here so I don’t have to worry. Isn’t that wild?? There were cats at the Parthenon. I wish I were a cat at the Parthenon, sleeping on the marble. God’s most beloved creations are cats sleeping on marble. There was also a cat at Athens’ Roman Agora (imperialism) and she was so cute and friendly, sleeping in the shadow of a column.

I brought the locket with your face inside with me, though I haven’t taken it outside. It’s a symbolic way of bringing you with me. The heat is so much I’m afraid of the metal making me sweatier, burned, or the chain becoming damaged. I hope to take it out in the evening soon. Perhaps on the early morning hike we’re going to take soon.

If I can remember, I will send you pictures once we’re staying somewhere with better Wifi. We saw northern lights near Greenland on the way from Montreal to Athens. They were pale and not quite green unless you looked at them through the camera, which made their color more brilliant, like in typical photos of northern lights. Mom and I took many pictures. Perhaps that would be something nice to send between the old architecture.

With love,

Alice

How has your week been? It has started to cool down here and it’s beginning to look like fall. Is it getting colder back home? We leave for Greece in a few days; if I do not write to you next week, it is because I’m somewhere without WiFi and I’m going to write as soon as I can. Do not worry!!

Grandma is coming today to watch the cats while we’re gone. She’s bringing her pet squirrel (I think I’ve mentioned him? His name’s Trooper, she found him injured as a baby) and her cat McKelvey. The other cat, Mabel, passed away a few months ago. I wonder how the cats will react to them staying there for a long time. Do you remember seeing Mabel or McKelvey? I admit that they’re so elusive that I can’t picture what they look like.

If you haven’t started school yet, I hope you have a solid few more days of vacation. It doesn’t seem fair that I’m going to Greece while you’re back home in Eugene. You never liked being separated from family, so you never wanted to come. Perhaps if nothing had happened you still wouldn’t be coming, but then you would have had a choice. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter now to go on vacations, since you are always separated from family; there is no choice anymore.

If I can, I will send you pictures. I don’t remember how I forced this website to upload your birthday present, I’ll try to do it again. I’ve gotten new film for my big camera that printed real pictures. It’d be funny to photograph those with my phone and send them. I miss you. I’ll miss you worlds away when I’m closer to Africa than I am to you (which I never considered on the last Europe vacation). I love you, Soren.

With love,

Alice

Happy September. I’ve already seeing children going to and from the middle school here — I can’t believe they’ve started school up already, right at the end of August. Have you gone back yet? I hope not, you should have another week or two. The school year is something to settle into, not rush.

I did not do too much this week. I went into Seattle to get a new passport, and it looks worse than ever there. Mom says this is because all of the places went out of business because of the plague. I wouldn’t be surprised. I hope you never have to live in a city in the US. That being said, we got Starbucks, a very welcome benefit. Have you been to Portland recently? I hear something similar’s happened there.

We’ve been watching The Sandman recently, and one episode reminded me of you: a young boy’s father forces him to live with him while his mother and sister move away. Years later, the father has died, the son has been put in foster care, and the foster agency refuses to tell the sister where he is, insisting that he is fine while living in an abusive home. It’s the closest I’ve ever seen to something like what happened to us. The sister’s search for her brother was brilliantly portrayed. I would recommend that episode alone heedless of the rest of the show. I don’t know how and in what way you might relate to the brother, but I hope to know someday. Watching him felt almost like seeing you.

It’s been so long since I’ve been back home. I think longer than I’ve ever been gone. If I had a driver’s license and a car of my own, I’d drive there this minute, regardless of circumstance. I hope won’t be afraid of me someday. I hope we can talk over lunch.

With love,

Alice

I’ll write really quickly because I have to go to work soon. How are you doing? August is almost over, do you still have a few weeks before school starts? I hope you do. It’s already started in Phoenix, poor folks.

Not much happened this week. It’s cloudy today for the first time, which is a great relief; soon, perhaps, it will cool down! Is it cooler there yet?We’re going on vacation to Greece soon, only a few weeks from now. I got Mom to buy me an umbrella for the sun, which will make it much more bearable to walk around all day (it took so long to convince her, but I’ve emerged victorious).

Besides that, little else is happening. I had to do premature laundry because Paris peed on my bed (again). I hope you are okay. I miss you. How do you even articulate it?

With love,

Alice

Achilles is sitting on me and purring, and I can barely reach the letters. He is a very sweet boy who acts like a baby. How are you doing today? How is everything back home?

Mom and I went to watch a friend’s play, and Aaron’s car (which we were using) broke down. We had to spend the night at the friend’s house and get a tow truck, and now I have to bicycle to work until it’s fixed. Alas, my aching legs. Do you have a bicycle? I know you have a few old ones in the garage, but I doubt they still fit. I remember bicycling around the neighborhood. Alas, how I miss it. It is not the same now.

A piece of good news: I might be getting counseling at some point. I hope it happens. Mom doesn’t seem to believe in therapy (far preferring consumerism) but I have some hope in it. Sweets and pretty things do not do much for long, though having them is nice (seeing only ugly things would make me feel worse — such as going off the island and back into the normal American landscape, sigh). Do you have therapy? I wouldn’t expect Mom (Mel) to support that, alas, but I hope otherwise. I may have mentioned this: Mom (Jess) found a picture of Mom (Mel) and showed it to me, and how normal she looks. Alas, alas. Her hair is more gray now. I hate how much older we are.

Achilles is off of me now. He’s sleeping on the floor now. I’m going to go do laundry. I miss you. I love you.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? There was a storm a few days ago and the first rain in a long time. I was quite happy to see it, though the power went out. Did it reach you back home? I hope you got some rain, this summer has been hot.

I have not done much this week. I visited a bookstore in town and found a book made in the 1840s — where on earth would they find that? You can find such strange things out and about. How has your week been? Have you done anything special?

I know these questions are formulaic, but I have really nothing else to say, just the start of a conversation over and over again. I hope you do not mind too much, if you’ve seen these at all. I often wonder if anyone reads these, and who they are. I hope they listen with open ears, at the very least. In the end, if you do not see these, I hope anyone else in the world does, and cares a little bit, in the opposite manner to how our family doesn’t. Someone who wouldn’t tell me, “Just keep praying.”

I have to get ready to work. I miss you everyday. I hope there is some end to our tragedy.

With love,

Alice

How’s it going? Happy Friday! It’s time for so much sleep (hopefully). I’ve not done much but work this week, but it hasn’t been that bad and I’m glad to get some rest now. How are you doing? What have you been doing?

August is already here! I’ve done very little with it. I got a haircut today, and I went very short, something I’ve wanted to try for years. It feels great! In that one picture of you and Mom (Mel) at some sort of wine convention, it looked like you had dyed tips. Do you? Dyeing hair is loads of fun!

Achilles is sitting on my back now, so I have essentially become a chair. A few days ago one of the neighborhood outdoor cats came right outside our house. We call him Rocky, and we’d only ever seen him a few times before; he’s so cute! Did KitKat ever get adopted? It’s absolutely tragic that the Santiagos just left her(?) behind when they moved — I couldn’t bear to do that! I hope she’s somewhere nice.

I haven’t too much to tell you about today. I miss you dearly, Soren. The cats would love you if they met you, Paris is very playful like you liked in cats.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? July’s almost over, it seems. It went particularly quickly this year. I’m somewhat glad of it: it’s exhaustingly hot over here! There’s been no rain and few clouds for some time. I miss the cold! Is it warm over there? I’d presume so, but we watched the track competition, and it seemed overcast.

I’m not doing very well. I’m strangely exhausted and keep having nightmares. I’ve been prescribed a new antidepressant though, which I hope might help. If not, I might have to get into energy drinks or coffee. You liked coffee; do you still drink it? Mom (Mel) never took us to Starbucks; I hope she does for you sometimes. Although it’s rather shortsighted, I wish sometimes that I had a different mental illness that encouraged energy, like ADHD. It’s easy to envy fixations when you don’t enjoy anything at all anymore. But that’s enough of that.

Mom referred to trauma in a way I couldn’t understand awhile ago; she thinks I am dwelling on you and Mom (Mel). How is it something one could ever climb over, like a death? How is it something to forget? “Mom doesn’t love you” is worse than “Mom is dead” in many ways. I want to go home. I cannot climb over an affair such as this, as if it were a breakup, nor can someone will themself out of a coma. It doesn’t help that she dislikes therapy.

I’m sorry for dwelling again; I am not well. I hope you are well, but how could you be? If you are, then I hope to find whatever it is you have. I miss you. I’d do anything to turn back time.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing? I caught the plague from Aaron and have been lying around for the past few days. It’s like a fever or cold, so not as bad as it could be. Have you gotten it? I hope not, although it likely wouldn’t hurt you badly.

I’ve done little this past week. My mental illness is bad again. I can’t seem to remember anything. Are you enjoying the summer? I hope you are seeing your friends. I wish I had friends to see. Everyday is exactly the same. Mom thinks it’s my fault. I hope it is different for you. Maybe it is a little similar to pre-trauma life over there. I would give anything for that.

I’m not well enough for articulation. I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well this morning. I hope you’re alright. I wish you were home.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing this Friday? It’s getting very hot over here, more than any other month. Aaron has the plague, so I’ll be out of work for a few days (woohoo). I don’t think I have it, but I’m gonna take a test.

I had a dream about you yesterday night. I was moving like normal, as if I were awake, but you were in my room. You were about nine years old, as you always are in dreams. I asked you what you were doing there and realized I was dreaming; I tried to wake up and couldn’t. The last thing I remember is you grinning at me with eyes hidden in shadow. It frightened me; I’ve never had a dream like it. I hope I won’t again.

Besides this, little else has happened. I’m having trouble finding excitement in anything. My doctor prescribed me a new antidepressant, so I hope it helps. Do you take any medicine like that? I’m taking more recently, a new thing to try for my warts (the day I stop nail polishing my feet is the day I’ll finally be free). I’m having a hard time enjoying drawing, writing, and music like I used to. Such is mental illness, I suppose… I hope you’ve never felt like that.

Though everything’s a little sad, it’s sunnier than ever, at least. Mom quite likes it. I hope you are well. I find my happiest moments are when I am dreaming but feel as if I’m awake, walking in another place where things are nicer, and often flying too. I love you.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing this week? WordPress crashed on me and I had to restart the iPad (alas accessing this app is often like breaking through a stone wall with a pickaxe) so let’s pray it doesn’t crash again. Achilles is sitting on me now, so now I’m only typing with one hand.

We went to renew my passport yesterday since I don’t need both parents’ permission now (Mom (Mel), as always, still wants to never speak to us again and gave no permission). You must have the same problem until you turn (16 I believe?). I’m sorry, I wish we could give you permission, even if you weren’t too fond of foreign vacations. Afterwards, we went to a bookstore, and I found a collection of vintage Shakespeares wrapped together (1895-1902!!). I also got a book of Milton’s poetry, and one of Keats’, Shelley’s, and Byron’s (all together). I am now eight books richer. I don’t remember if you like reading very much; if so, what have you been reading lately? What have you liked in the six years of absence between us?

I’m feeling a little down lately. My doctor has prescribed me a new brand of antidepressants. I hope you feel nothing similar to me, and I hope you are as happy as is possible in our world. I love you. Enjoy yourself today.

With love,

Alice

Not too much to say about this holiday. Hooray for independence and pretending to be patriotic. Is there anything going on today? We’re going to a small party later. Mom’s making deviled eggs, and now the whole house smells like them.

I remember one year when we were little, going up to the top of that place in Eugene where you could go hiking (maybe near the shopping center with the open courtyard in the middle?) and we huddled together in a blanket while fireworks went off. I miss you dearly. I hope you have fun today — again, I have very little to say, alas. Happy Fourth of July, Soren.

With love,

Alice

Happy July! June passed by very quickly. How are you doing this week? Perhaps asking any question at all is wholly useless. I think it’s polite to ask, though.

Both Mom and I have our own bicycles now; my own arrived pretty recently. It is gray with a present blue tone. Do you have a bicycle? I know a few of your old ones live in the garage, but I doubt they fit anymore. It’s a very sad image, a few lone children’s bikes in a dark, dusty garage. Perhaps they are given away now, who knows.

Pearl went missing a few days ago one morning, but we found her at 11 AM stuck in a thorn bush. I was crying the whole time before and after we found her. I hope you’ve never had a similar experience to deal with. We bought ice cream afterwards for comfort.

Besides this, I’ve done little but work this week. I’m starting to have dreams where the dishwasher at summer camp shows up, which I’m sure isn’t a good sign. Just like Frost’s poem about apple-picking. Have you done any work? I recommend babysitting, it’s very easy, though, to be fair, the kid I used to babysit wanted only to play Minecraft. I was paid to play Minecraft (the dream job, which I suppose is where the Minecraft YouTube guy got his name). So yeah, babysitting highly recommended.

I’m rather boring this week. I hope you are well. I think of you everyday. What is there to do with all of this unhappiness?

With love,

Alice

How’s it going? I started work at summer camp awhile back, which hasn’t been that bad. Have you ever done a job? Besides this, I did babysitting for awhile (the money for which was squarely spent on popcorn).

Besides this, it’s been rather uneventful over here. I’ve been enjoying the sun in small doses (before I begin to melt) and the books I got for my birthday. What have you been doing with the summer? I hope you’ve been having fun and talking to your friends. I admit, though I’ve gotten lots of nice things, I still feel lonely over here. Something in my brain seems to make it that nothing in the world is enjoyable at times. I hope you don’t feel the same.

Mom is out walking right now. I think I’m going to try to visit a bookshop in town today, which I’ve never been to, if I can find the rope-thing which attaches bikes to posts. I’m sorry I don’t have much to say today; I hope you are well, I hope you are happy, and I hope you aren’t bothered with me. Tell me something interesting that we might talk about, sometime.

With love,

Alice

P.S Sometimes while signing off I make the typo of ‘With love, Lice’.

Consider this a mini-family birthday party? I’ll try to be quick because WordPress keeps crashing (right after I finished the original title, Happy Birthday to Me, I’m 103)

Not too much has happened today. I got two vintage Language of Flowers books from the mid-1800s, a music box, a locket with a little music box inside, a mini-Greek book for vacation, and a small collection of old historical items (like an ancient bug trapped in amber!). I wonder each year if you or Mom have thought of me today. I hope you have. I think we went to that very good bagel shop six years ago. I don’t remember its name, but I remember that it’s downtown somewhere.

Mom and I got ice cream. We’re going to FaceTime Laura soon. I hope you’re not unhappy; I know I always am on your birthday. But I won’t dwell for too long. I am spiritually sending you a slice of our lemon cake from Washington. I love you.

With love,

Alice

How are you doing this week? Mom and I got a bicycle a few days ago, which has been much fun to use — I’m going places much faster now! I rode by the middle school on Vashon yesterday at around 3 PM and saw that children were leaving; school is still in session, in the middle of June. What absolute nonsense. I hope it isn’t the same for you. There’s 104 days of summer vacation, not 80.

I can’t say I’m excited about my birthday tomorrow. I haven’t been for years. The night I turned 15 I cried because I would be an adult soon and didn’t know what to do. I feel in my head that I’m still eleven and on vacation in Government Camp, still not home yet. But I’ve graduated, and I never got to have a normal childhood after eleven. Alas, alas, and it was longer for you, you were only nine. At least I get presents tomorrow along with my worry. And pizza.

In 2016 when I turned 11, Mom (Mel) gave me a little necklace with a little black diamond. I still have it. Why did she bother to get me something so nice at all? Likely knowing what she was about to do? Perhaps you know, perhaps you don’t.

I am sad today, so I won’t keep going lest you become sad. I will write tomorrow with perhaps some better things to say. I love you. Write to me, please.

With love,

Alice

P.S Mom (Jess) tells me that Mom (Mel) wanted to call me Esther. Part of me wishes she won on that front, so that she couldn’t deny that she is my mother.

My alarm is set, so hopefully no more missing Fridays. How are you doing? I hope school is out by now, but knowing public schools, there’s a big chance it isn’t yet. What nonsense, alas. Perhaps by next week?

After my birthday we’ll enter the nebulous zone of ‘perhaps I’m leaving right now, six years ago’ because I don’t remember the date Mom and I went on vacation. I barely remember leaving — who would think to try? I found an artist who inspired me when I was eleven after years of trying; I found them for the first time after you were gone. And alas, I’ve officially graduated from high school: time is cruel. It’s been so long since the summer of 2016 ended.

I’m sorry for dwelling. I hope you’re alright? I haven’t done much this week; I’m stuck in an unhappy hole. But yesterday I learned a lesson: don’t leave the laundry in the washer overnight, lest your sheets smell like mold. Oops. The cats don’t seem to mind, at least. Is the weather getting warmer over there? It is here, but it rained all day yesterday.

I hope you find something nice to do when (or now that) summer’s come along. I miss you. I hope that somehow you try to speak to me someday. For now, I will go wash the sheets again.

With love,

Alice

Happy June! I am so sorry I forgot to write again yesterday!! There’s not a brain up here in my head. And I forgot to set an alarm! The worst sister of the year award is coming for me. I’ve set one now. How are you doing? Has school let out yet?

Not much is going on over here. Mom went to the hospital a few days ago because she had a pain in her chest, but they acted annoying and didn’t find out what was up (the classic, “oh women and their anxiety”). She seems okay and I’m glad she doesn’t have anything visibly wrong. I was very scared.

I still have the cold I got in Phoenix, but it’s gotten better. I hope you haven’t gotten sick at all recently? Especially with the recent plague. Since summer is coming (and perhaps has already come) I hope you have the opportunity to have lots of fun with your friends. I haven’t been able to do that in years, so the idea that you could comforts me.

I hope you’re okay. I don’t have many new things to say after only a few days, alas, but that I miss you. The sadness will last forever.

With love,

Alice

I’m so so sorry I didn’t write last Friday!! Vacation absolutely got to me, I’ll set an alarm next time!! I’m so sorry!!

How are you? Is school going to end soon? In Phoenix school has already finished for some, I think a few of Laura’s students are already out. They get out so early in Arizona. Have you been there ever these past years? It’s ever so hot, I nearly melted.

I got sick a few days into vacation, so the last bits had to be spent chilling out. It might’ve just been dust/allergies, though. I took a test and it wasn’t COVID, at least. I hope you haven’t been sick lately? Laura has lots of pictures of you on the wall, in both the living room and her bedroom. We went to Barnes n Noble, Sugar Bowl, and saw Ella, our friend from when we were little. She’s doing well, and is so nice. Mom didn’t come, but she was sad she didn’t since she misses the sun.

Laura became somber when you were mentioned. We both miss you. If you can, please tell me how you are. I love you.

With love,

Alice

Did you notice it’s Friday the thirteenth? Did anything unlucky happen to you today? Nothing for me, alas. It’d be a little interesting.

Not much has happened this week. I’ve been in a week long post-test coma. How is school? I hope somewhat well, tests are difficult. I’m going to Laura’s in Phoenix soon, which will be nice. Until then I’m just sitting in the yard and dozing like a cat. Have you been on vacation since 2016? I hope so.

I hope life besides that is doing alright and that it’s nice down in Eugene. It’s getting somewhat sunnier here these past few days. I will miss the rain; it’s sad that school is during the rainy season and summer during the sunny one. It was very rainy and windy down in Salem while at the test there. Is it that way in Eugene?

Sometimes I wonder if I should ask questions at all. I never receive an answer. But if I didn’t, it’d feel lonelier here. I hope you’re alright. Goodnight, Soren.

I’m so sorry for not writing yesterday; yesterday was very hectic with my AP test and driving home from it (had to go to another state). I wish I had remembered and I’m very sorry.

As I mentioned, I took my two AP tests. I hope I did alright. The second one I had to drive all the way to Salem for because no other school hosted the art history test. We stayed at a McMenamins in Portland and went to a cat cafe, which were both great. How was your week? Did you do anything fun?

I wanted so much to go to Eugene while in Salem. It was so, so close, and yet inaccessible. Alas… It’s been so long. Oh Soren, I miss home. But at least I got to see Salem and Portland. Have you been to either lately? I hope so, it’s nice to get out.

This week has been very eventful and I am very tired. I haven’t much to do but eat the leftover Cracker Barrel (curse Washington for not having one) and Whole Foods and sleep. I’m going to go into a mini-coma. Happy weekend, Soren. I hope you are well. I wish I had much else to say. If I still thought there was a chance you were still into Steven Universe I’d talk about it every week.

With love,

Alice

It’s almost May! How are you doing? School will end for me soon, but I’m sure you’ve got about a month and a half left, unfortunately. When it’s nicest out of all times, alas…

I’m pretty stressed, my AP tests are under a week from now. Thankfully, they will be over soon. I’ve been studying basically nonstop and I’m exhausted, so I don’t have much to talk about. Next time I write, I know I’ll be done, which is such a relief (even if I fail enormously). Do you have any big tests? I don’t know when those start for public-schoolers. I hope not, best to avoid those. Not fun.

I had another dream with you and Mom (Mel) in it, but I have forgotten most of it now. I saw you both on a beach and while you were happy to see me, Mom kept trying to get me to leave like I was harassing you. She had changed your name to Madeleine for some reason (I was reading a book the night before which once belonged to a Madeleine, which probably caused that). I looked into a dream book to see if there might be any symbolism, but it seems the author was very concerned with making everything a symbol of, well, sexuality and genitals (they kept mentioning Freud too), so no luck there.

t seems you’re a regular visitor to my dreams nowadays; it is the only way I can see you. The ones where you act like nothing happened are more pleasant, but also more melancholic. They are not true visions. You are always the same age, like a child who has died. Oh, goodnight, Soren. Perhaps I will see you some hours from now, in another dream; it is an easier thing to hope for than anything else.

With love,

Alice

Mom’s birthday was a few days ago. How did you celebrate, and did you get her anything? I admit I forgot it was her birthday on April 20th, and only remembered on April 21st. Perhaps writing that note to her did me some good. Did you get cake?

Not too much happened this week. The AP tests are drawing near and I’m doing my best to study for them. Do you also have tests like those in public school? Since mine are only about two weeks from now, I feel a constant anxiety in my stomach. The apple blossoms are beginning to bloom, and they look very pretty; that’s a consolation.

I had a bad dream where I was searching for you. I found you and Siena in some place, but when I spoke to Mom, she didn’t listen to me. I tried to express how her leaving me felt to her and a group of others, but they wouldn’t even look at me, and I could barely speak because I was crying. I have too many bad dreams lately.

I may have mentioned this before, or have wanted to: I found the Social Security database for all names given to at least five children of the same sex for each year since 1880 in the USA (because I am a nerd). In 2007, you were one of 27 girl-Sorens! I thought that was awesome. In 2020, there were 33. I wonder if we live near any?

I hope you’re alright. It’s sad that Spring of all seasons has to be the school-stress season. I miss you.

With love,

Alice

Happy Easter! What have you done today? Did Mom hide eggs? We didn’t do much today. We bought candy at the grocery store, I got a big Reese’s egg that I could get halfway through before feeling sick, lol. Too much candy.

It’s really nice out, it’s feeling mostly like spring. We sat outside for awhile, Pearl came out on her leash and ate some grass. Have any friends come over, or have you gone to a friend’s house? I hope it’s nice out as well, and not snowing like it was a few days ago here.

I think it’s the sixth time we have spent Easter alone. The years keep compiling. I hope you haven’t thought about it today like I have. All I hope is that you’ve managed to enjoy yourself. I miss you. I hope you have fun today. Heaven knows Easter egg hunts are fun.

With love,

Alice

P.S Mom, your birthday is three days from now. You will not get your own post. Happy birthday. There is much I could say but little I believe you would care to hear. Alas, Mom, alas.

Happy almost-Easter! Are you doing anything for the holiday? We bought some candy today, I’m pretty excited. We might also watch that Exodus-Moses thing that comes on TV? That was fun when it showed up last year. I’ll write you on Easter, but I doubt I’ll have much to say. Until then, happy Good Friday.

The blood draw last week was worth it: just learned I have an iron and b12 deficiency! I am now taking iron supplements, lol. Let’s hope they work. It reminded me that I miss nutritional yeast. Remember when we’d put it on popcorn? I miss that, it was fun. And nutritious.

It snowed twice this week, in the middle of April! Did that happen down there as well? I was shocked. The second time was yesterday, but it looked pretty sunny and spring-like today. The flakes were so big yesterday, but nothing stuck. If it didn’t, is it still cold? It probably is, it’s Eugene, where it’s always cold (unless you’re still in LA).

I’ve been re-listening to lots of Gerard Way lately (emo once, emo forever it seems). ‘Piano Jam’ reminds me of you. ‘Brother’ always has. I once wrote a nostalgic comment on ‘It’s Been so Long’ (TLT) about how it was the first song I associated with my kidnapped sister. I got accused of lying, so I panicked and deleted the comment. Perhaps I shouldn’t have. Enjoy the weekend, Soren. I love you.

With love,

Alice

How has your week been? Mom (Jess) showed me (I think it’s on Instagram or Facebook) that you’re in LA with Mom (Mel) for some wine-convention-thing. What is happening there? Are you having fun? I do miss travel, I hope it’s nice. In the one picture with you I can’t see your face very well, you are looking down. Did you know a picture was being taken? Regardless, your hair looks dyed; I like the new color.

Little happened this week before Thursday. I got some blood drawn (to check for deficiencies or whatnot) and fainted in the car. Apparently my lips turned white but no one took pictures, alas. I nearly threw up and felt stomach pains for hours — highly unrecommended. Have you done a blood draw before? I hope not. Besides this, it has mostly just been studying. The tests are under a month from now, alas.

I hope you are well. I hope for some more sleep this weekend. I hope you’re sleeping well in LA, if you have not yet returned to Eugene. Goodnight, Soren. I wish I knew more about the wine-convention, so I could talk about it.

With love,

Alice

Happy April! I’m not gonna make any April Fool’s jokes, I’ve already been made a fool of at least once today. Have you been today? I remember one year years ago when I got up at night to put (unused) toilet paper in your shoes. I don’t remember how you reacted, though, but I found it hilarious.

Mom’s birthday is soon. Are you going to get her anything? According to Mom (Jess), Mom (Mel) hates having the 4/20 birthday. Who could blame her? Between marijuana and Hitler, it’s not the best day to be born. You have much time, regardless. I see things sometimes in stores like plotted plants and think, “Mom would like this,” but alas, I can’t give her a birthday present. Maybe technically I could leave something if I could go to Eugene, but I suspect she wouldn’t want it. That being said, she does not get a drawing. Mom hasn’t spoken to me in 5 1/2 years, she doesn’t get that much effort from me. You need to parent your child to get a drawing. Sorry.

I had a sleepover with my friend Emily this weekend/a few days after. I’m not taking a spring break (studying for tests) so it was a nice break. I found a book from 1898 (collection of Tennyson works!) for only four dollars! Have you read any good books lately? I’d say I could use recommendations, but I’m drowning in books (the best way to live).

Achilles is sitting on my chest now, blocking 1/3 of the screen. I hope you are okay. I love you. Perhaps I’ve already mentioned this (my memory is goldfish-like) but I had a dream where I called Mom (Mel) on the phone and she answered. I asked her why she left me, and she said I had gotten too old, like with children when they turn 18. I cried because it didn’t make sense. I don’t know the real answer; perhaps you do. I’d like to know someday. Have a wonderful weekend, Soren.

With love,

Alice

How’s it going? It’s been pretty sunny out this week. There’s lots of flowers; the air smells sweet and floral, and everything is quite pretty. I hope it is the same you are. How is Eugene? I don’t go out as much as I’d like because I’m studying most of the time.

Two of Aaron’s friends came to stay in our guest room a few days ago, and they just left today. They had a big black dog who was friendly, but the cats were scared of her. Have you had any friends over recently? Those occasions are rare for me now, but I’m going to have a sleepover in a few days, which is quite exciting.

Although Mom gave Siena’s mom my number, Siena still hasn’t texted me. I wonder if she doesn’t want to. I am reminded of Kafka’s The Trial when I think about trying to contact family and friends who won’t speak to me. How can a defendant defend themself against a crime they don’t know the nature of? Alas, alas. But that’s just my common struggle. I’m sure there are countless on your end I don’t know about. Talking to you again sounds like a distant dream.

I won’t become too sad here today. Little else has happened that’s of note. A wasp got into my room a few days ago somehow. I’m not sure how it got in. Goodnight, Soren.

With love,

Alice

How’s it going? I’m glad it’s Friday, I definitely need the sleep.

Not much has happened this week. Paris jumped on my bed in the middle of school, peed, and ran away on Wednesday. I had to do premature laundry. We’re going to put him on a diet because he’s getting very chubby. He just did it again as I write this. I have to do laundry again. I’m back now, I just went and put my sheets in the washing room.

I noticed a bouquet of daffodils outside a few days ago. Are the ones in the backyard blooming yet? The cherry (apparently actually plum) blossoms look lovely by now. My wintertime sadness is starting to lift. I hope if you too experience it that the same is happening.

I haven’t much to write this week, and I must go now, I have to go get groceries. I love you. Have a wonderful weekend.

With love (and eternal laundry),

Alice

How has your week been? Not much happened for me. Cookie selling wasn’t to exciting (rather more nerve-wracking) but fun enough. We now have lots of cookies that we got ourselves. I remember buying some years ago with Mom (Jess), but I don’t remember if you were there — it’s been too long; my memory is now short-lived. I loose more of it with time.

I enjoyed going to a Barnes & Noble while away for the first time in who knows how long. I got two books, one a collection of works by Robert Louis Stevenson, and the other the complete works of Oscar Wilde. We didn’t have much time, but it was nice to at least be there a bit. I wish I could have looked around more, though. How is the Barnes & Noble in Eugene? Have you been often? I hope it hasn’t closed like the Toys R Us.

I had another nightmare about you, but I don’t remember too much. I was in our house (where you live right now) and trying to write a note to you on the inside of your bathroom drawer, where I thought Mom (Mel) wouldn’t see it. It contained a link to a second Instagram account where I could try to communicate with you (though, for some reason, I could only communicate through video games). I remember leaving flowers and salad around the house in hidden places and thinking that Mom (Mel) could not get rid of me now, because of my presence through the proxies of the flowers/salad. When I spoke to Mom, I asked her why she left me, and why she doesn’t love me, and she said, “You are mad; you are crazy.” I do not find answers even in dreams.

If I knew a thing about you, I’d talk about it for as long as I can, instead of everything to do with me. I noticed that the person on Pinterest who messaged me about the Flickr account has changed their name to Finn. That can’t be the Finn from Sudbury, right? There is nothing else that might tell me about your life.

I’m feeling rather homesick, in the sense of home as not just a place, but also a time. Looking at your old photos brings me an indescribable longing and sadness. I hope you are well. I miss you.

With love,

Alice

It’s March now! The plum blossoms (not cherry, apparently) have started to bloom in the backyard, and they’re very pretty. Have the daffodils in our backyard started to bloom? I always like those. Seeing them around reminds me of home. How has your week been? I hope there’s many flowers. How is the rose bush in the front yard doing? That poor thing always looked close to death. I would assume there’s not much asparagus anymore?

I must write quickly, because I have to go sell Girl Scout cookies soon. I think I’ve mentioned being a Girl Scout, but nothing’s happened since 2019 for obvious reasons. We’re going to Starbucks and a bookstore on the way, which will be much fun! Have you been to the Barnes and Noble lately? I miss that place a lot, it’s one of the nicest places in town. I hope you’ve also been to Starbucks, since I think Mom doesn’t like that place.

I finished my novel on Tuesday. It hasn’t been edited yet, but I’m glad it’s finished. I won’t spoil much for when I eventually post it here, but I will say that it’s dedicated to you (as all my works are). Here’s the dedication:

Once again

To

My dearest sister, Soren,

Is this work dedicated.

Long loved; long lost.

I hope you like it. I’m not quite sure why your name isn’t in italics, since I copied the format off of another book (which I assume knows the right way of dedicating). I’ve written a few versions of dedications before, but I like this one the most.

I hope you are well. I wish I could talk about whatever it is you are up to in Eugene, and not only what’s up here. Is spring break soon? I hope so. I love you. Have a great weekend.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! I didn’t write on President’s Day because it seemed like a rather unimportant holiday. Did you get school off? I forgot to take it off, so I took Tuesday off instead. Speaking of, ‘two’s day’ was fun to think about. I took a screenshot of the date on my iPad at 2:22 PM. Did you notice the date? We’ll enjoy another day like that on 3/3/33.

Not much happened this week. I think I’m close to finishing my capstone novel (before editing, alas). I hope school is going well for you. I’ll be much cheerier after my AP tests.

Apparently Yasmin (Siena’s mom) messaged my mom. She didn’t say very much that made sense to me. Mom gave her my number to give to Siena so that she could text me, but she hasn’t yet. It doesn’t make much sense to me at all. Nobody speaks to us. I don’t know why. I don’t know further why someone would speak to us, after no one else will. It’s a conundrum I cannot solve. Do you know why? There is no one else to ask.

It’s been so long since I’ve been back home. I want to return there so much. Mom is talking a lot about places to go on my gap year. However interesting anything is, I just want to go home. Even if only for a day. I hope you are well there — I’m sure it is a much more of a frightening place for you than it is for me, when you are always there. Goodnight. I hope you have something that gives you comfort.

With love,

Alice

How was your week? It feels strange writing because I wrote to you only last Monday. Has anything of interest happened, like on Valentine’s Day? I hope you are well.

I admit that essentially nothing has happened to me: school, school, school. I finished writing the climax of my capstone novel, and will hopefully finish soon. Mom wants to dye Achilles pink (with something non-harmful) but I have a suspicion that he would be distressed by that. Imagine if you suddenly changed color.

I’m writing this with one hand now. Achilles wants attention. He purrs like he has a cold. I don’t think anything’s wrong with him. Paris squeaks when pet and it doesn’t seem harmful.

I’m trying not to think of home lately. I’m feeling rather homesick. I’m glad the weather here is like the weather there. But what I’d give to visit… I haven’t been since the last time you physically saw me. I don’t like to think about that day, either. I stopped recording when I knocked at the door, and didn’t notice until after I saw you. I wish I hadn’t. My newest image of you is from 2017.

I hope you’re alright, Soren, wherever you are. I didn’t mean to leave. I would come home if I could.

With love,

Alice

If the website is showing you a different username, I had to make my own account. I deleted my WordPress app and re-downloaded because it wouldn’t let me in, then I couldn’t get in with the password, and Mom doesn’t know it either, so now I just get a new account.

Happy Valentine’s Day/Laura’s birthday! Have you done anything special today? I made Laura a drawing, but nothing else. Do they still do special things in public school? I remember at Charlemagne there was some gift-giving thing where you weren’t allowed to give candy (nonsense). I certainly don’t have a Valentine — I hope you do, if you want one. Do you like boys, girls, both, or neither? I don’t remember you having a crush on anyone.

Have you been watching the Winter Olympics? Ice skating is my favorite. I do hope the Russian competitor who landed a quad jump wasn’t actually on drugs. I would presume you watch the summer games because of the gymnastics, but I can’t guess anything about the winter ones. I wish I knew more about you, then I’d have more to say. It feels rather self-absorbed to speak about myself the whole time.

Mom’s birthday was yesterday. She liked the drawing I made for her, but little else happened in terms of celebration. She bought mini-cupcakes, which I had a few of. It’s rather sad that the celebration lessens as you get older.

I’m rather sad today. I hope you’re alright — this is one of the only holidays where it’s somewhat accepted to be sad, although I hope you have nothing (besides, of course, The Big Trauma, which is why this website exists) to be sad about. Goodnight.

With love,

Alice

Happy Friday! Mom and Laura’s birthdays are soon. I’m going to make them drawings — shhh, don’t tell. How is your week going?

How is school? I accidentally overexerted myself during the week trying to get to my daily number of words to write for my capstone-novel (1,000) and screwed myself up a bit. I’m going to take a 48 hour nap. I hope you are doing better. I’ve been thinking of my friends lately, those I knew in elementary school, and wonder if they hate me (except Terah, who moved from Eugene and I still talk to). There is no way to be certain! And I cannot defend myself against what I don’t know. I miss them sometimes. I still have most of a little pendent Mia gave me, although it broke apart years ago. Alas… I am glad you still live near your friends.

Have I told you about my novel? I don’t remember. Simply put, it’s a gothic horror novel about a ten year old girl who’s adopted by a man of strange mannerisms and behavior. I won’t say much else: I’ll probably post it here when I’ve finished so you can read it. I’m not as insecure about it as with my other works. I remember that you were naturally a better writer than me. Have you ever written anything? I still think (likely paraphrased) ‘as the moon rises, I still love you’ is a wonderful line.

I miss you. I hope you are well. How can I articulate this? To say I’ve been suicidal since I was eleven doesn’t evoke what I try to convey. Perhaps I’ll be able to say it someday. Again — you are a better writer than me. I love you, Soren. Goodnight.

With love,

Alice

Groundhog Day was two days ago. Apparently the groundhog saw his shadow, six more weeks of winter. That’s alright with me as long as the weather gets lighter. Have you any thoughts on this? Honestly, we should watch the event, but I don’t think we ever have. Do you?

Not much has happened this week. School’s been tiring, which is placing a stop on my brain right now. How have things been going? Is the weather getting nicer? We got a little bit of sun these past few days. I like the rain and the cold, but it’s also nice to sit in the sun like a rock. A very warm rock. Alas, they’re all wet right now.

Have you watched Disney’s new movie Encanto? Mom and I watched it a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it a lot, my favorite character was Bruno. I related a lot to his isolation from the rest of his family. And his song is fantastic. Who’d have thought that anything would get technically more popular than Let it Go (or so I’ve been told)?

My brain’s not functioning very well tonight. I’m going to go hibernate. I love you, Soren, and miss you. I had a dream last night that Mom (Jess) and I went into your house, but I left because I was afraid of being seen by Mom (Mel) (there’s gotta be a way of referring to them than this). If only it weren’t so realistic.

With love,

Alice