I know you don’t want to hear from me right now. I hear that you don’t even go by Anna anymore, but you’re Lydia again. Like Mom and I used to call you when you were very small. Can you even remember us calling you that? Either way, it’s kind of nice. I always like Lydia better than Anna anyways.
But, I know you. And I know that you wouldn’t like me calling you Lydia now. So, I’ll stick to Anna. Because I don’t want to make you any angrier than you already are with me. Because I know you are already livid. But you’re livid with the wrong people.
The truth is—You’re probably reading this years from now. Maybe five? Six? I’m betting you stuck your head in the sand—ran away—as soon as this letter hit your doorstep. Tried to pretend I didn’t exist. But, you kept the letter. Sealed, but you couldn’t make yourself throw it away, even as you ran. Not this. Not your last contact with your brother.
Then again, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe five or six years down the line this paper will have rotted away under a pile of trash where you immediately threw it as soon as you recognized my handing writing. Maybe I’m wrong—but I doubt it. So—I’m going to say what I need to say, and you’ll read it when you are good and ready.
I wasn’t to start by saying I love you. You’re my sister and I will always love you—no matter what happens. I love you with all my heart. You will always be blood, and I will always want to keep you safe. So, if you’re reading this because you finally came around to my point of view, you can always come see the right side of things. Please, don’t hesitate to come to me. You can walk right in and I promise no one will lay a hand on you. I swear on my life you will be unharmed, and you know how highly I value my life. I want you here with me, Anna, at my side, because I know that together we would be unstoppable. We could make this world what it should be. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Anna? A perfect world? Us together again? I’ll tell you now, it is all I want.
I still don’t quite understand, Anna, why you left in the first place. I’m not angry, I just don’t understand. You saw the same horrors that I did. You are just as smart as me, so I know you comprehended what we saw. Why didn’t you get angry? Why am I the only who is angry about this? Why don’t you want to change it with me? I just want to understand, An. Please.
I’m keeping the Razr. Even if it’s five, ten, one hundred years from now that you read this letter, I will still have that Razr, charged and with me. You know the number, and I will answer. Call me, please. I miss my sister.
Your one and only brother,