"i reached for you, but you were gone"

-wonderland, taylor swift

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of me.

I stumbled, my knees buckling momentarily under me, and grabbed blindly onto the tree trunk for support. There was a tightness in my chest that constricted my heart and my throat, leaving me with an odd feeling that was between breathless and hyperventilating.

It wasn't possible.

They couldn't have found out.

It was all a bad dream, it had to be just a bad dream.

Soon, I would wake up, and then-

And then what? You'll just have to face another day of living with this guilt.

Something between a strangled cry and a guttural sob tore from my lips, and I fell to my knees. It didn't matter that I was getting strange looks, it didn't matter that I was in public.

There was no shame left to feel, not when I was who I was.

"Is something wrong?"

I shook my head, even though my smile was shaky.

"No, everything's fine." I mumbled, my voice cracking. Moments later, I felt arms around me.

"You're a liar and you know it," Cheri murmured, her voice a familiar hum against the cacophony of my thoughts. "I'm not going to force you to talk, but I'll be here if you need me."

At that, I couldn't help the tears that began falling down my face, even though I knew I was a weakling for allowing myself to cry so easily.

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, with my head buried in my hands and Cheri's arms around me. Even though it must've looked weird, to me, it was something of a lifeline to me.

Cheri was something of a lifeline to me.

And I couldn't imagine losing her.

"I don't want to remember, please, no," I gasped out, hands pressed to my mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle the screams that threatened to tear free from my throat. I wanted to lose control, I wanted to yell, I wanted to break.

Break, just as I had when I lost her.

"Excuse me, miss, are you okay?"

I looked up, mustering all the effort I had to put on a fake smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just need a moment to gather myself. I just got some bad news, my mother just texted to say that my older sister died in surgery," I lied easily. It was partially true- my older sister was dead, just not from surgery.

She had been dead for two years now.

"Oh, my condolences," the lady looked sympathetic. "Do you want a ride to the hospital or something?" Her eyes were soft, and her smile kind.

For a moment, dark brown eyes that held the same softness flashed before me.

"No," I murmured quietly. "I think I'll be okay. Thank you for your help."

The mask I always put on slid back into place.

===

The moment I walked through the school gates, Georgia was there, engulfing me in a giant hug.

The warmth and sincerity was something that I craved, and subconsciously, I found myself wanting to return the embrace.

Then, I remembered.

"Don't you dare pretend to be nice," I sneered, shoving her away viciously. "You know what you did."

"I didn't do it, Felicity." Georgia said calmly, although her eyes were desperate and she was visibly shaken. "Please believe me, I didn't do it."

"Who else could have?" I shouted, attracting more than a few curious and fearful looks. "You're the only one who knows! You're the only one who I told, or don't tell me you've conveniently forgotten that fact?"

"I didn't do it!" Georgia screamed. There were tears in her eyes, though of what nature, I didn't know. "I may be cruel, I may be cold, but I'm not despicable! I wouldn't stoop so low, Felicity! No matter what you may think of me, no matter what I've done, no matter what you've done, I still care for you!"

"Care?" I let out a bitter scoff. "You don't give a shit about me. You can cut your hypocrisy, because there's no one here to applaud you for your stellar acting. You were the one who said that I'd changed. You were the one who turned against me first. You were the one who started the whole let's see how much it takes before Felicity Williams breaks movement. So don't you dare say you care. The only person who ever truly cared for me is dead, and has been dead for two years now."

"Felicity, please, just listen!"

"No!" I yelled. "I'm done listening to your lies! You promised, you swore that you wouldn't tell anyone! Now - Now everyone knows that I'm a murderer, and not just a murderer, but a cold-blooded beast who killed her own sister!"

"It wasn't me, Felicity!" Georgia said desperately. It was the first time I had seen her so wild, so frantic, and a small part of me wondered if maybe she was telling the truth. But that part of me was quickly silenced, because there was absolutely no way anyone else could have known. I had only told Georgia. "Please, just-"

"Stop, Georgia," I said tiredly. "I'm done. I'm tired. Aren't you tired too?"

Without waiting for an answer, I turned and walked away.

Yet, the haunted look in Georgia's eyes was firmly imprinted on my mind.

===

All day, I was avoided.

When I walked through the halls, while the crowd didn't part like the Red Sea, people shied away from me almost violently the moment I passed by.

And even though they never said it to my face, all I heard wherever I went was more and more exclamations about how I was a dirty, no-good sister-killer and a psychopathic murderess, and how they knew it all along.

Usually, I would only have been mildly fazed by these remarks, because they had become commonplace to me.

But now? Now, they knew. Their words actually had a basis to them.

And they weren't just talking about me.

They were talking about Cheri, too.

That hurt more than anything else, because Cheri had been the person closest and dearest to me. She had been my rock when I felt like I would lose myself, she had been my life buoy when I was drowning, she had been the one thing that kept me from complete despair.

I was shaking by the time school ended. I wanted nothing more than to pull an ostrich and bury my head in ground, but unfortunately, burying my head in the ground meant smashing my head against concrete.

That would probably write me off as even more of a psychopath.

"So, if it isn't our resident murderess?"

I jumped, dread running like ice through my veins. I knew that voice, and I knew the trouble it brought.

"So, if it isn't our resident wannabe?" I bit back, scowling. I could hold my own, even though the day was proving to be one of the worst in my life. I had gone through worse. Stubborn teenagers looking to pick a fight was nothing.

"I see your tongue is still as sharp as ever," Katrina rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you'd benefit from eating a little humble pie? After all, your reputation has gone to hell. And guess who will be there to take over? Me. And when I do, I'm going to crush you under my heel and laugh. It's such a pleasant thought, isn't it?"

"Such big words for someone who was kissing my ass just yesterday," I faked astonishment. "Why don't you actually do something useful, and then come back for your gold star and a pat on the back?"

"Oh, of course, you would know all about being useful, wouldn't you?" Katrina pouted. "After all, not only did you force your way to the top by removing everyone who was a danger to you, but you also killed your own flesh and blood, and ooh, as if that wasn't enough, you also-"

"Shut up," I cut in, knowing what she was about to say next. "Do you have anything of actual value to say, or can I leave? Right now, all I can see is someone with a puffed-up ego expelling hot air and expecting to be awarded a trophy for it."

"I'm not done," Katrina smiled sweetly. "I'm not leaving until you admit it."

"Admit what?" My voice teetered on the edge of a scream. I was tired, frustrated, and humiliated. And if Katrina didn't leave in approximately 0.01 seconds, I wouldn't be held accountable for whatever I did next. "My God, you sure like to be dramatic, don't you? If you ever go into the acting career, call me, I'll give a commendation on your résumé. It'll go something like this: Katrina Willows has consistently displayed an astounding ability to act like a drama queen and bullshit her way through any situation by sheer ability to yak the ear off the other person. A++, you should definitely hire her!"

"I want you to admit that you killed your sister."

"Oh my, you must be going through a fever dream now," I shot back immediately. "You're hallucinating if you think I'd ever admit that out loud."

"Cheri was as much of an older sister to us as to you, you know?" Katrina yelled. "We spent time with her, bonded with her, we cared about her too! Do you even know how upset we were this morning when we found out? You told us, you lied to us, you said that she was just away at some Swiss boarding school! God, Felicity, you never do think about others, do you? It's always how you're hurt, how you're in pain, how you have problems - but you never think about the rest of us! What are we, invisible?"

She paused, eyes shiny.

"We loved Cheri too," she whispered. "So I don't think it's too much to ask for you to just admit your mistake, instead of always running from it!"

"And you think I didn't love her?" I clenched my fists, trying desperately to stop their trembling. "Do you think I don't know that I killed her? Do you think that I don't remind myself every single damn day that it was my mistakes, my slip-ups that caused her death? Do you really think that I'm running?"

It was one thing to relive the memories in my head day by day.

It was another thing to dig up every single detail of what had been, spilling it out before me in a mess of blood and gore.

It was like ripping open a wound again, reaching in, and pulling out everything that kept me alive.

"One day, Felicity, you will admit it to yourself," Katrina shook her head, a mixture of pity and scorn on her face. "I would be there to congratulate you, but I don't think I'll be around."

"Good," I bit back, although I knew that I didn't mean it. I missed them, and if I could, I wouldn't have pushed them away. But it was too late for regrets, and I had to live with my decisions. "I don't need you anyway."

"If you don't, then why are you still holding on?" Katrina looked resigned. "I've never been one for drawn-out goodbyes. So when I don't come back, don't be surprised. I wish you all the best."

She smiled, a small quirk of her lips that seemed more sad than anything, and left.

===

Daniella was in a foul mood when I got back.

When she got in her moods, even a hurricane would know better than to cross her, because she was an unparalleled force when incensed. I would know, considering that I had been on the receiving end of said force many a time.

However, when I tried to tiptoe to my room, I was stopped. And that was when I knew that the result of her mood was because she had been digging through the old photo albums again.

These sorts of moods were always the worst, because they weren't explosive or anything. They were quiet, eerily still, and every words spoken held the oppressiveness of truth. Somehow, that was worse than anything she could ever yell at me.

"Is there something wrong?" I plastered a fake smile on my face, though I was sure she would interpret my blatantly false politeness as sarcasm.

"Yeah, you're what's wrong, actually." Her eyes were blank. "You've been wrong from the moment I brought you into this household."

"Well, I'm sorry for that," I muttered, surprised by how steady my voice was. It was funny how when my brain accepted something, my heart didn't, and when my heart did, my brain struggled to catch up. "But I can't really do anything save for offing myself."

"What, you mean off yourself like how you offed my daughter?" Daniella laughed shortly. "Don't you think you have too much blood on your hands already? Haven't you had enough of destroying families?"

"Stop, please," I whispered. "I'm your daughter too."

On a normal day, I would've still been able to stand up for myself, even slightly. But it wasn't a normal day, and I didn't want to talk about anything, much less fight for my own rights.

All I wanted to do was sleep, and never wake up.

That would be nice, leaving behind everything.

"You're not my daughter," Daniella hissed. "My daughter's dead, and she's been dead for two years now because of you. You will never replace her, because you'll never be as good as her. You'll never be her."

I stumbled, even though there was nothing for me to stumble on. It felt like someone had punched me, knocking all the air from my lungs. It was oddly reminiscent of that morning.

"I know." I murmured, hating the way my voice sounded so raw. "I'm sorry."

I fled to the darkness of my room and pulled out my phone. It was pathetic how I turned to something digital whenever I was weak and hurting, but in a world where I didn't have anybody or anything else to turn to, it was all I had. A realm of sights and sounds that were virtual, timeless, a constant in a realm where everything was ever-changing.

At least, I couldn't hurt something that wasn't real.

Felicity: hey, are you there? i'm sorry, i know i have no right to talk to you, or any of you for that matter. but i just feel so alone, and i need someone to listen. i know you won't judge me.

My fingers slipped on the keyboard more than once, and I waited tensely for a reply. Honestly, I didn't expect one, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

All I wanted was someone to talk to.

Irene: you're right, i won't judge.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Felicity: thank you so much. i just can't take it anymore. it was georgia who told everyone, you know? i should have seen it coming, i really should've, but i guess i never expected that she would stoop so low.

Irene: you're such an idiot, felicity williams.

Felicity: what?

Irene: that's the thing about you. you jump to conclusions without bothering to investigate. georgia didn't do it.

Felicity: how would you know?

Irene: because i did it.

I froze, staring at my screen in disbelief.

Felicity: there's no way.

Irene: and that's why I say you're an idiot. you only see what you want to see. And what you never saw, was that i've never forgiven you for killing my sister.

I slumped to the ground, letting my phone drop from my grasp.

Of course. Of course.

At the end of the day, everything led back to my sins. My faults. My grievous errors.

I killed Amanda Carter and Cheri Williams, and there would never be an escape for me.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.