InsaneJournal

Cordelia set her pen down and scanned the letter she’d just finished. It was shorter than usual; mostly because there wasn’t much to report. The subject of her impending graduation had long since been exhausted, and apart from the steady trickle of papers and projects that were due around the mid-semester mark, Cordelia really have didn’t have many important things to do. Still, it was imperative that she sent her weekly letter to her sister, regardless of whether or not she had anything interesting to say. Smiling quietly, she picked up her pen and wrote the words “Love, Delia Grace” in careful script before folding the letter into its preaddressed envelope.

The clock flashed 12:48, late for a cross-campus walk to the mailbox, but she couldn’t sleep anyway; maybe the brisk night air would do her some good. Slipping on her jacket and taking the letter from the table, she made her way into the mild November evening. The young woman’s boots crunched into the snow as she trudged across campus, her brain whirring as she brainstormed a thesis for Shakespeare capstone paper. Imprisonment in The Tempest, maybe. She was filtering through some possible thesis points as she opened the mailbox, its creak disguising the footsteps of the man behind her, although she sensed his presence nonetheless. Cordelia tensed, turning her head to see who else could be mailing a letter this late at night, the mailbox still open wide in a jawless, toothless grin. Just as she moved, her neck prickled and pinched as a syringe was slipped cleanly into it, flooding her mind with instant confusion. Words echoed mockingly in her head as her wide eyes began to close, words that had haunted her for years and years. Daddy Dawson, screaming. Laughing. Commanding. Now Delia, sugar honey, whatever you do, don’t you dare scream. The mailbox groaned shut. Silence.