Sweetie Whitledge

[Sweetie Whitledge]

June 27th, 1887

... It still hurts to write, but it feels as though I must. I couldn't write anymore after pleading for Darling to come rescue me from... from... him. Why does my hand hurt? He scared my cat bad enough that she clawed my hand deeply, fleeing to get away from his yelling. The poor dear, still at my home. That's right, I'm not even at home. He hadn't even cared that I was bleeding, even when it was his fault that I was bleeding at all.

And that was only the beginning. He then continued to yell at me. He then accused me of going behind his back. It wasn't I who had invited her to our home. It was announced that she had come, and I had decided that perhaps I should speak my concerns. How is that wrong? How am I to be seen as the evil creature who tried to separate two that were in love, like in some sort of book?

To be honest, I didn't think he felt anything towards her back. But his reaction proved me wrong. Perhaps if he had talked to me in a normal tone, and had asked my side and reasoning behind my talking to her, things would have gone so much better. But that was ruined, and thrown away. He threw me away like I was nothing. Favoring her words, her opinions, over mine. His own sister.

I see now, there is no reason to think he ever cared for me. None at all. He thinks of me as a brat, nothing more. He even threatened to ruin my dreams, my very goal in life. How could he? How could he even begin to think I would ever forgive him for that? Let alone listen to him.

What is worse, he tried to send a letter the same day. As if he hadn't insulted me and hurt me enough. He hadn't even given me a chance to heal, to come to him and speak. Instead, he probably sent even more insults, telling me just how worthless he sees me as. I couldn't bare it. I couldn't read it. I hurt so much, and he wants to add more pain. He's never cared anyway, now has he? It hurts so much.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

June 28th, 1887

A young man bumped into me today. It was quite annoying, but... he was slightly cute. Though, I would never say that to him, and I didn't. I will possibly never see the young man again.

I miss my little cat. She is the one whom I adore. But I wanted to spare Darling the headache of protecting the little winged nightmare. After all, I don't want Darling to start to hate me, especially since we have finally been getting along.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

(OOC- WARNING, THIS THREAD HAS BEEN CHANGED TO MATURE DO TO THIS JOURNAL ENTRY, AND POSSIBLE SIMILAR ONES AFTER THIS ONE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. This one is mature due to thoughts of suicide at the end of the entry.)

June 30th, 1887

Handsome came to our cousin's home, where I am, without informing anyone beforehand. What was he thinking? That I would welcome him with open arms, begging for forgiveness? How selfish of him. What he got, was almost all of the rest of us being very uncomfortable, besides Glisten. But, Glisten really seemed to not want me there in the first place, and seemed quite pleased when Handsome began to yell at me, again.

Glitter had been so gentle over the whole thing. I understand her wishing me to speak to him, but I couldn't. I feel bad for shrugging her off. It wasn't her fault that Handsome was upsetting me so much. She was trying, no matter how she felt about me.

Handsome looked so uncomfortable to be here, but that was his decision, not mine. I would have gladly had him stay home. If only he had given me more space and time. He did that for Darling, he would have done that for every other sibling. Just not me. Never me. He never wanted me as a sister, I can see that. I can see that like I can see the paper that I am writing on, like the tears that are dripping onto it.

Then, he had the nerve to call me impolite for sending the letter back. Of course I would send the letter back. If I had read it, I would have hurt more, no matter what he said. And I am sure it only had more anger and hatred towards me in it.

I tried to reply as calmly as my voice could possibly allow. I tried so hard to tell him my side of things. How he was only hurting things more, and putting more fire spells onto the bridge. How I needed more space, which was so, so true. I had even suggested he stay for a bit, have a pleasant time with our sister and cousins, while I have some more space in my room. I even suggested a better time for us both to talk things over.

And how did he respond? He dismissed what I had said in a heartbeat, said it all was my fault, and called me a runaway. Then continued to call me petty, while insisting that I was even a burden on our cousins. He claimed that he didn't like treating me this way, but doesn't he see he could find better ways to talk to me that would actually have me listening to him?

He then demanded I come home. Not requested, not asked if we could talk things through so that there wouldn't be any tension being dragged home with us, not, he demanded that I come with him, and demanded poor Darling that she come as well.

I felt so sorry for her! I should have requested Cheesecake's parents to take me in. Perhaps then, he would have not have paid any attention to the poor sister of ours. She even had cancel plans with a friend. How could he do that to her?!

What's worse is that he than threatened finishing school! Again! He even said that mother would agree with him! As if he actually knew what she would agree to these days! He is not my father and never, ever will be!

I had finally snapped. I couldn't stop myself. I began to yell, telling him fully how I felt. And I meant it. I was so over his attitude, and his mask that he put on to make us pretend to respect him. I respect real adults, not a brother who thinks he is one. He might be one legally, but he is in no way mature enough to be one mentally!

In response, he called me selfish, and a child, and more. Who is the selfish one? I had asked for peace, and some distance. That's all I had wanted, and I was honest with him about it. But, he doesn't care. And before he had even called me that? I had apologized for being born. He hadn't even flinched. Had no reaction at all. He didn't care at all to that statement. That deep, sad statement, that had forced it's way out of my lips, and he had... had called me... selfish? Apparently I am.

Perhaps... perhaps I shall no longer be a burden. After all, very few actually want me. Even my own mother is not a part of that list. Perhaps going through the window is a safe bet. Then my brother would see me as a burden any longer.

Dots from past tears are on the paper, and the writing is slightly more shaky than usual.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 1st, 1887

Darling sent me a letter. It did feel good to hear from her, and I was grateful for the space beforehand. I am grateful to her for helping me.

She did offer for us to have separate rooms. I feel sad to tell her this, but I'm not comfortable with that right now, not with the troubles with Handsome. At least with her sharing my room, he would be less likely to barge in and yell.

She has mentioned that my lovely kitten has missed me. Poor little Bijoux. My little love. She did not deserve the scare she got, and I feel so bad for the little one. I miss her terribly, and wish to hold her again.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 2nd, 1887

She has convinced me to come home. That, and... given me a small glimpse into the mystery of our older brother's mind. Yes, I see how talking to Miss Backus would be cause for upset. What I can't see, is how it would lead to being screamed at, then treated like a criminal with threats of jail in the form of the Roses.

I would apologize for talking to Miss Backus, even though I had my reasons, but I feel I deserve an apology, for all of it. It is something that needs to be worked out, not screamed at. But, I fear he shall only hold on to his pride, instead of speaking to me calmly. As though he didn't care. And calmly is not the same as speaking as though I am something that is owned and handled.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 3rd, 1887

I am home.

... My cat is... bigger, since the last time I have seen her.... Have the staff been over feeding her? She is an active cat, she shouldn't have gained the amount of wait she has in such little time. Though, her face remains mostly the same.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 10th, 1887

How could he? Through a damn letter, I am told that I am now an orphan. Through a letter. The coward can't face me in person. He doesn't care, how could I ever even start to believe that he would? He doesn't and never will. He never cared. Why would he? I am only his sibling. Did the others get letters, or does he just hate me that much. How could he be so cruel? He couldn't talk to me at all? I know we haven't been speaking, but all of us deserve more than that. He probably was told in person, so why couldn't we have been given such things?

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 16th, 1887

I have been told that my cat is with kittens. It is of no surprise to me, but I am still in shock.

I have not talked since knowing that I am an orphan. But, in all honesty, haven't I been an orphan since the death of my father? After all, mother abandoned us. In both life and death, she has left us to be orphans.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 26th, 1887

I have spoken. It feels so right that it was to Honey. I feel it would have been strange if I had spoken to anyone else before her. Perhaps... perhaps at least the two of us can fix things. After all, our argument feels so small compared to all that has happened. Poor Honey, we need each other, especially with the mess that has happened in this family.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 30th, 1887

Cupcake. Poor Cupcake has turned me into a child. An actual child. It is quite embarrassing. I hate this. I shall never hear the end of it from most, if not all of, my siblings. This is ridiculous. I don't want to be a child.

  

[Sweetie Whitledge]

July 31st, 1887

I got another famous Handsome Lecture. This time, however, he was talking about poor Ruskin as if the girl was an animal. He also called me an infant, which was rather annoying. Does he think himself to be amusing? It was rude, and pathetic.

He whined about the social expectations of mourning. Well, as far as I see it, we've been orphans since papa died. The woman we cared for so dearly had abandoned us and thrown us into the reign of Handsome.

If anyone deserves a proper mourning, it is the Ruskin family. I barely knew the youngest of the siblings, but he seemed to take a bigger interest in their family than mother did in ours. I know that's insensitive, and I feel sorry, but it feels as though she never cared for us at all, only to fake it when papa was alive.

What upset me, and angered me, the most was him calling this family time. We haven't been family in so long. How could this possibly be family time when most of us hate each other, or at least are uncomfortable around each other.

What feels strange... is just how much I wanted to defend Ruskin. Of course... she is my friend, but... even that wouldn't make me that defensive. It must be in my imagination. It has to be.

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   Crystal Ruskin

[Sweetie Whitledge]

August 1st, 1887

I have been changed back into my normal age, brown hair and all. Thank goodness.