Beau,

I want you to know the truth. Maybe if I get all of this out on paper, it will be easier for you to understand why I hate myself so much, and why I’ll never be able to forgive myself if we don’t get Charli back.

The day she disappeared, I knew something was wrong. Charli had been talking about getting a new job for ages, about an opportunity that presented itself and that could leave us with a lot of money. I rarely asked about it, because truth be told, I didn’t really want to know. From the way she spoke about it, I could tell she was doing something that wasn’t quite legal. And I didn’t want to know more. I didn’t give a shit about what she had to go through to make sure we could get through the day alright.

Charli had borrowed money earlier, when both our parents died. We were down on our luck and she couldn’t get a job anywhere. She was a waitress for a while, in a dirty little diner during the day, and in a seedy bar at night. She made some money, but it never seemed like enough. There was barely enough to cover the mortgage, to make sure we could keep our parents’ house and a roof over our heads. We were hungry sometimes, not that often after she got the second job at that bar. But we didn’t have a lot, so she got that loan and she really made it go a long way.

I went back to school. My high school was Rosewood High, I got a full scholarship for it despite my grades being worse than ever before. They believed I had promise, and they would have done anything to keep me there. Maybe I was an excuse, the kind of student they kept so they could say they had someone of lower class there too. Someone common. That’s what the kids called me, and I fucking hated it.

I never made any friends there. I wasn’t close to anyone. I barely got by, anyway. It seemed like everyone hated me, like the whole world was against me. I tried so hard in class, but the teachers wouldn’t take me seriously. I was always… not enough. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not rich enough. An outcast.

Charli hadn’t gone to that school herself. She went to a public high school where a shooting had happened only a few years earlier. They had a metal detector at the door and everything. I always thought she was angry that I got to go to a better school. She was forever telling me off, telling me to do my homework. I don’t think she was angry though. I think she was just working really, really hard to make sure I had a better life than her.

Once, when I was at school, I got into a fight with one of the popular girls. This was when my parents were already gone, but we hadn’t gotten the loan yet.

Charli came to pick me up from school, and she heard the popular girl insulting me. I picked a fight with her. I clawed at her hair, tearing out clumps of it. I scratched and kicked her and shouted that I was good enough, and that we were just the same. The other kids kept telling me I was nothing. I was trash, I came from a poor neighborhood, from a crumbling house in the shittiest part of town. Charli heard all of it. She heard them mocking the way I dressed, my cheap clothes, my borrowed textbooks. I remember her on the way back home. Her mouth was set in a thin line and she seemed determined.

That night, she got the loan.

I got better clothes. Nicer books. New shoes. She spent all that fucking money on me, never on herself. Just so my life could be better than hers. And I was an ungrateful little brat through all of it.

I hated Charli. I’d hated her since I was a little girl.

She was so obviously my parents’ favorite. Mom doted on her, and Dad ignored me completely, but as we got older, he paid more and more attention to my sister.

When I was fourteen years old, my dad went to jail. Mom started doing drugs again. Six months after he left, we got a note from the prison informing us that he’d died in a brawl in the exercise yard. Mom went soon after, not even a month. I didn’t find her, Charli did. But I remember how horrified she looked for days after. I remember the hospital telling us she’d overdosed.

Charli was old enough to take care of me, just turned eighteen. She did everything, the best she could. She didn’t go to college. She just wanted what was best for me.

But I couldn’t forgive her for our childhood. For the way our parents loved her the most while they neglected me completely. I was forever jealous of my sister. Of her beauty, the way our parents loved her more. The way she always seemed to get everything I craved, and I was supposed to work for a future I didn’t even want. I had no friends. No family but her. And I hated the world for making my life so fucking unfair, from taking everything I had away from me. My parents were gone. My scholarship was hanging by a very thin line. I’d almost lost it so many times, and I was very close to losing it for good.

All I had was Charli, but I fucking hated her. I let my jealousy consume me, my whole life. All I thought about was the unfairness of it all. Hating Charli was my sport, and I was the best player.

You wanted to know why I want to get her back. I guess it doesn’t make sense now that you know how much I’ve hated her my whole life.

Yesterday, when you came into my room, I was having a nightmare. Really, it was more of a flashback. I was remembering what happened when I was younger, the first night my father started paying attention to my sister.

I remember she got her period a few days earlier. She was terrified until Mom explained it, and congratulated on her being a woman. I remember the way her cigarette dangled from her lips as she told her that, switching the channel on the old TV we had. I remember Charli’s face paling, how she locked herself in her room for hours after that.

Dad didn’t come home that night, and both Mom and Charli seemed relieved for some reason. I wasn’t – I was sad. He never paid any attention to me, and I tried so hard to get some from him. He only came home days after. And that was what my nightmare was all about.

I remember him going into Charli’s room that night.

I remember her screaming.

I remember Daddy telling my sister she was a woman now, so what he was about to do to her was okay.

And I hated her so much for it, for getting more attention from him again.

I didn’t understand what happened that day until last night. I think I know now, but I don’t want to write it down. It hurts too much.

I think I know, because I remember a day after our parents died in that shitty old house, when Charli found blood in my panties and cried with relief. I didn’t understand then. I think I know why she cried now.

She cried because Daddy wasn’t around anymore to give me the same speech he’d given her when she was younger.

She cried because she knew I’d escaped the things she had to go through, and she felt guilty for feeling relieved that our parents were no longer around.

And I think she cried a little because it happened to her, too.

But I didn’t understand it, any of it, back then. And when I took her role, when I stepped into her shoes, I still hated Charli so much. I wanted to have everything I felt she’d taken away from me. I wanted to steal her life, become her, take everything she’d worked so hard for. Including you. Including her job. Just everything I could possibly get my hands on.

And now I finally understand that Charli was trying to protect me. I don’t think I can get rid of all my jealousy so fast, but I do want to help her. I want to find out what happened, and I want to save her from wherever she is. Maybe then we can start a new relationship.

There’s one more thing, but I’m going to tell you that in person. I don’t want to write it down.

I hope you understand now.

xx Lucy

Beau looked up from the letter and stared at me for a very long time. He didn’t say a word, just put the letter down after a few minutes and approached me. I fell back on the bed, and he climbed on top of me. Neither of us said a word as his mouth descended on mine and he kissed me slowly, but oh so passionately.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt, babydoll. I won’t let anyone come near you.”

I let out a little cry as he kept kissing me, his lips soft but persistent against mine. He tasted so good, like nothing I’d ever had before. He was older than me, and he felt like a real man. Not like those boys I’d kissed behind the bleachers when nobody was looking. He felt good, and special.

“And we’ll find Charli,” he muttered, his breath hot against my cheek. “We’re going to get her back from wherever she was taken, and we’ll make sure she’s okay. Got it, babydoll?”

I nodded and he gently pulled me upright, getting off me and making me sit down.

“Now, little Lucy,” he said, a more serious tone to his voice. “We’re going to have to make a plan. Understand?”

I nodded again, my eyes on his. For some reason I was getting excited, feeling flutters in my stomach as we looked at each other.

“What kind of plan?” I asked, barely able to hide my curiosity. “Will you tell me, Beau? Please.”

“All in good time,” he promised me. “Let’s get you showered and ready first, babydoll. And then we can be on our way.”

“On our way where?” I asked, and he merely grinned at me, chuckling to himself.

“You’re about to find out, Lucy. And I think you’re going to like it a whole lot. In fact, I know you will.”

My face lit up with a smile and I took his hand, leading me outside the room without hesitation. I couldn’t wait to see what he had in store for me.