((You can play that video, if you like. It adds to the scene, really.))

While Charlotte poured her heart out, I stood back in awe, watching her long fingers pressing down on the keys lightly. Her accuracy and delicacy were almost enough to impress the great Beethoven himself. I'd be lying a second time if I told you I wasn't a bit jealous of my bright, shining sister.

She wore her hair back in a short, curly stubbed ponytail tied up in red ribbon, a suitcase sitting beside the cushioned bench she'd made refuge upon as her bittersweet melodies swept me off my feet.

Around her neck hung a mans' stopwatch, it's chain rusted yet still dainty. She seemed to harness the clock's tick and make a metronome of it, her notes right to cue and on the dot.

I find myself swaying, arms enveloping my torso while the skirt of my dress swings along with me. The way Charlotte had some way or another become a better pianist than me is beyond anyone's knowledge. But still, we've observed her to be her happiest when she's surrounded dust and lifting the fallboard of a piano to examine the inner beauty of her first love. Well, her first love before the others.

If I hadn't of been forsaken with this never-ending cold, if that's what you wish to call it at least, then I would be in good spirits to play like she does. I'd enjoy it, truly.

After all, I'm the one who taught her to operate pianos in the first place since her hot temper has always scared away previous tutors. They didn't understand her as well as I do. Instead of trying to kindle her fiery personality they only wished to put it out, diminishing her enthusiasm and killing all emotion that lied in every chord she represented.

I think it's the only reason she and I became close, not counting our mutual spite of Father's beliefs and the way our kind handles monster kind. Charlotte and I even gave one another nicknames while sitting in front of the piano.

We were trying our hands at playing a melody Muffet had once hummed while cleaning the den. "Home" she called it. The song was thought up by n old friend of hers, she told us. Charlotte seems to know more about the topic then I do, which irks me in a way. But I do not bother prying for answers.

Since teaching my big sister the piano, she has been more careless, joyous and humble than before, when she was thirteen. Then, Father had me reading Greek mythologies, so when I saw this dramatic change in Charlotte, I proclaimed her to be "Chara".

She looked at me with the strangest expression on her face.

"Cha-what-now?"

"Chara. It means happiness. You're my happiness, Chara."

When I said that, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glossed over like she was going to cry. I've never seen my sister become so touched, I don't think. Though it was for a good reason, still, seeing her tear up like that broke my heart.

Then somewhere down the line, she started calling me "Frisk". For what reason, I'm not too sure. Every time I have asked she gives me a different response. I haven't even begun to look it up either, I feel it'd be best to leave it at that.

Like a ballet dancer, I drift down the rest of the staircase I'd stopped in, slowly shifting positions on my feet as though I were actually dancing with the tune. Though there was not much to dance to, My body somehow found it's own way of blending into a rhythm. A very calm, breathless rhythm that felt like another dream of mine. One where I'm holding hands with a stranger, squeezing his hand tightly as I watch his dust fly away, high up into the sky.

I feel like dust sometimes, this is what Chara's song leaves me to think of once it's through.

"What are you doing out of bed, Francine? And why aren't you using your Oxygen tank?"

Snapped out of my glittering fantasy, my head shot right back to her sitting by the piano. Her arms crossed over her chest, forcing her breast to mash together in the center of her upper torso and her brows furrowing while she purses her luscious, ruby red lips.

I suddenly begin to feel the pain I'd pushed away earlier rushing over me in one massive typhoon, regret piercing through me like a knife.

"I was feeling well, so I thought I would come down to see you off."

Chara looked at me for a long moment, as though she was figuring out if she was angry with me or not. To my fortune, she seemed slightly relieved. She sighs, standing and coming to me with her hand clutching the watch around her neck.

"At least now I don't have to worry about leaving without a hug goodbye, yeah?

I smile, jumping her and wrapping my arms around her back, squeezing her as tightly as my weak body could in a tackle.

Instead of being dramatic by complaining I was childish or that she would 'sorta miss my sorry butt', she tenses and wraps her arms around me in return. I speak into her chest, not wanting to part ways.

"I wish you the best of luck, Chara. Honestly."

"Thanks, Frisk. And hey, I'll back for you once I've figured things out, promise."

By that, she meant she'd rescue me from this neglective coop I call a home. I don't wish to leave, but Chara's dead set on not leaving me here much longer.

The thing is... I worry that if I were to go with her no one would be here to help calm Father's nerves to keep him from becoming violent with the staff. I've witnessed too many monsters being whipped to death to just walk out on them now. My sister doesn't understand that though. If I have any true purpose on this earth, then it's to be a scapegoat when the others are unable to defend themselves.

While parting, I felt something cold against my neck. I reach to touch it, feeling the dainty chain I knew so well. Tears brimmed my eyes as Chara turn away from me. She stooped down, picked up her brown leather suitcase, and started for the door.

I suddenly feel nothing but guilt as I look down into the clock, listening to it tick. Sickness overcomes me as I rush forwards, removing the necklace and holding it out shakily.

"I can't take this! He gave this to you, not me!" I cried out, causing her to stop and look over her shoulder at me, one foot on the porch and another stretched but still inside.

With tremors, I take her hand and drop the watch back into her palm, "I just can't. Please take it."

She giggles heartedly, spinning back to me and leaning over.

"You've always been so thoughtful. But believe me, little sister..." Before I realize what she's about to do her lips press against my cheek.

Leaving me baffled, she pulls away and clips the chain around my neck once more. I sense a hint of joking jealously in her tone before she walks away a second time.

"He would have wanted you to have it."

A piece of me longed to tell her how wonderful a woman she was. Another longed to scream out how much I loved her. Then another piece of me wanted to crawl into the couch cushions and wail. I wanted to bawl but be happy for her at the same time.

I stood in the front door, waving off her car as it drove down the driveway and past the grand gates with a smile. I also kept the necklace on despite my oppositions against it...

Our father never so much as told her goodbye. He just remained in his office doing god knows what while I took on more pain than I'd felt in years. It seems as though anyone who has ever loved me has left me broken, one way or another. And now, Chara's no different. 

As she disappears down the road I let myself collapse to my knees, still blank staring at the road, hoping she would come back in a few minutes because she'd forgotten something. She never did.

She always told me not to cry when I'm upset, but now there's a tear every time that I blink.