Work Text:
Dear Verso,
I miss you.
It has been one full year since the incident. It is still hard to talk about, well, write about. In case you didn’t know, I lost my voice in the fire. Life is different without you. It’s quieter without the sound of the piano playing at all hours of the day. It’s funny, it used to drive everyone crazy when you would keep us up all night practicing for a big show or working on one of your pieces, but now it's something we miss. Life has a funny way of putting things in perspective.
Papa has everyone in this new treatment method called “talk therapy”. It’s supposed to help us “process the trauma”. Clea and Maman are still skeptical, but I have found it to be helpful. My therapist was the one to suggest that I write you this letter. He said it may help me process some of my more intense emotions.
I was angry for a while, and if I am being honest, I still am some days. I was angry at you for leaving me. I was angry at the writers for tricking me. I was angry at the house for being so flammable. But mostly, I was angry at myself for putting us in that situation. Papa and my therapist say that it’s not my fault, but sometimes I believe they say that just to make me feel better. I wanted to join you for a while after the fire. I thought everyone would be better off without me. I even tried, but I am sure you can guess it wasn’t successful. Don’t worry, I am doing much better in that aspect. It is the daily pain of your absence that is the hardest to deal with. I never knew emotional pain could physically hurt so much. The pain gets marginally easier to manage each day. The scary thing is that as time moves on, so does my memory of you. It is already starting to become fuzzy, how your eyes would crinkle at the corners when you let your guard down and enjoy yourself. The cadence of your laugh. Even the shade of black your hair was. I started painting again, much to Maman’s delight, to make sure your finer details are not lost to the sands of time. It is still sloppy, but Maman seems happy with my progress; she said it is my finest work.
I am sure you want updates on the rest of the family. Clea has finally stopped her solitary war. It took some time and a few near-death experiences before Clea finally ended her suicide mission. She’s started sculpting again, and they are even more monstrous than before. You would be horrified. Maman also started painting again, she says it helps quiet the voices in her head. Maman and Clea are even hosting their first art gala since the fire. It’s to honor your life and sacrifice. They are calling it Clair Obscur: The Life and Death of Verso Dessendre. Maman is going to display my painting of you AND even some of my poems. I think she is just trying to make up for how she painted me in your canvas, but it is still nice. We’ve made a real effort to work on our relationship. She’s decided to permanently step away from the council to heal. It is odd seeing her around the house throughout the day, but it's not unpleasant. And Papa is still Papa, albeit a bit more neurotic since the fire. I think he is finally calming down; he was quite anxious after the canvas was destroyed that Maman or I would follow you. And he wasn’t wrong to worry. He looks so much older, I think we all do. Our family will never be the same, but we are working towards a new normal. I believe you would be proud of us.
And lastly, thank you. Thank you for always finding a way to make me smile whenever Maman or Clea would make me cry. Thank you for supporting me when no one else did. Thank you for teaching me what unconditional love is and showing me that until your very last breath. Thank you for your sacrifice. I did not always appreciate it (and sometimes I still don’t), but I promise to honor it by living a life to love. Finally, thank you for being my brother.
I love you.
Alicia