Dear

The late afternoon sun set on the chilly October day, taking what little warmth was left in the town with it. Inside number eight-hundred and eighty-one Gilmore Lane, Elizabeth was standing in front of the large grandfather clock as it struck six o’clock. The delicious aroma of Martha’s stew filled the entire house but no one could eat it yet, not until David arrived home.

The hour grew later. Martha had built a fire for light and to warm the living room where Elizabeth still waited. Soon the clock struck seven and Martha approached her mistress.

“Mrs. Phillips,” she spoke quietly as though afraid of Elizabeth. “Please have your dinner; I will wait out here for Master Phillips.”

Elizabeth shook her head; mousy brown tendrils of hair fell from the bun atop her head. “No, Martha, I will wait for him. Please, just leave me alone.”

More time passed until Elizabeth couldn’t wait anymore and she went to the dining room for dinner. By ten o’clock that night, her husband was still not home and Elizabeth was exhausted. She fell asleep alone that night.

The next morning, Elizabeth woke to an empty room. She dressed and followed the scent of eggs to the dining room. Martha had set the table for Elizabeth and smiled sympathetically as her mistress sat down. A folded piece of parchment was perched in her work weathered hand.

Martha held out the letter to Elizabeth who took it from her hand.

She opened the rough piece of paper and studied the dark scribbles of ink.

My dear Elizabeth,

He proceeded to explain that problems had come up in work that he had to take care of, he also apologized profusely. Elizabeth set down the letter and stared at her cooling food.

He was always working late, he was never home anymore. Elizabeth didn’t know what to do. She had tried everything she could think of to get David to come home on time, no matter what problems came up in work. He just shrugged his wife off and changed the subject.

Elizabeth spent the day thinking about the letter from David. Her mind was telling her that David couldn’t help the long hours but her heart was arguing that if he really wanted to, he could get home on time. The thoughts raged on until a migraine appeared.

By the time David opened the door at six-thirty that night; Elizabeth had decided to speak with her husband about the hours. When he entered the dining room, his bow tie already loosened and his jacket off, Elizabeth was seated at the bare table.

David’s eyebrows rose at the surprising scene. “Elizabeth, what is going on?”

Elizabeth looked up at her husband through her thick eyelashes. Her eyes were wide and full of so much hurt.

“What have I done wrong, David? What did I do to cause this?”

David looked extremely alarmed. “W-what?”

“Did I do something wrong?” she questioned, tears forming. “Why do you want to avoid me?”

David walked over and lifted Elizabeth’s chin with his index finger. He kissed her lips gently.

“You did nothing, my dear, and I am not avoiding you. I apologize for worrying you.” He sounded so earnest that Elizabeth couldn’t help but believe him. That nag in her heart, however, was still there.

The morning after Elizabeth and David spoke, he was gone at work and Elizabeth had a hollow pit in her heart. After Elizabeth’s tears had dried the night before, David had seemed too distant as he ate his dinner. He had fallen asleep early and barely spoken to Elizabeth at all.

“Mrs. Phillips!” Martha hissed as she opened the door. Her eyes were full of fear; her mouth was set in a grim line.

Elizabeth was instantly alert at Martha’s peculiar behavior. “Martha, what is the matter?”

The maid looked torn; her eyes wildly darted from Elizabeth to a piece of paper in her hand, identical to the one Martha had given her the morning before.

“What is that, Martha?”

“I-I,” Martha couldn’t seem to find the correct words.

Elizabeth quickly lost her patience with the woman. “Oh, just give me that!” she snapped, walking over to Martha. She snatched the paper from Martha’s hand.

“Master Phillips wished for me to send this but I couldn’t, I-I read it, Mrs. Phillips,” Martha quickly explained, recoiling away from her mistress.

Elizabeth ignored the woman as her eyes quickly scanned the hastily written letter. The greeting alone froze Elizabeth’s blood and stopped her heart.

My dear Felicity,

“Who wrote this, Martha?” Elizabeth hissed. “Who wrote this?” she shouted when Martha just whimpered in fear.

“M-master Phillips,” she finally whispered.

Elizabeth shook her head wildly; her hair flew around her shoulders. “No. No!”

She sank to the floor, tearing the letter to bits. She was hurt but the worst feeling she had was the murderous rage that filled her entire body.

How could it be true? How could they do that to her? Her husband and her older sister, the two people she trusted the most. They had gone behind her back, betrayed all of her trust, and committed an awful sin. Those two people had hurt her and she wasn’t going to take it.

“Mrs. Phillips,” Martha whispered as Elizabeth unfolded her body from her position on the floor. “Do you need a doctor?”

Elizabeth turned her head towards Martha but it was as though her eyes just stared through the maid. “I am going to write a letter to David,” she explained slowly, “and I will need you to have it rushed to him. You must not read it or let it be known that either of us have read…that,” she pointed a finger to the scraps of paper. “Do you understand?”

Martha only nodded and left the room. When the door shut, Elizabeth walked to the small writing desk in the room. She pulled out a new sheet of paper and began to write:

Dearest David

The bedroom was dark when the door opened; the light from the oil lamp only lit a small area. David entered the room, still in his work clothes, and glanced around.

“Felicity?” he called quietly, shining the lamp towards the bed. From the light, a figure was visible underneath the blankets. “Felicity, are you in bed already?” he asked, chuckling slightly.

He gently pulled the blanket back and the scream that left his throat was bone-chilling. The scream was only audible for a moment before a person stepped into the room and hit David in the back of the head with a cooking pan that had enough force to knock him unconscious.

When his eyes finally opened, David looked around the room blankly. Elizabeth stood at the end of the bed he lied in and a smile full of satisfaction graced her lips at his look of bewilderment.

“Good evening, my dear,” she hissed, her eyes falling into slits as David became more aware of his surroundings. “Are you at all uncomfortable?” Elizabeth asked, indicating his tied hands and feet.

“Elizabeth,” he began but he was still groggy from the injury. “What?”

Elizabeth smiled, a wicked, hate filled smile. “I saw your rendezvous letter to my dear sister.” She looked at the lifeless body of her sister which was sitting up in the bed next to David. “A shame, isn’t it?”

David looked over at the bludgeoned Felicity and screamed. Her face was black, blue, and red, cuts were everywhere.

Elizabeth went over to her husband and held a knife to his neck. “I love how quickly you come to Felicity when she writes to you. Why didn’t you ever come home on time when we made plans, David?”

His voice was desperate as he pleaded. “Please, Elizabeth, don’t-”

Elizabeth stepped away from David and walked around the bed to the body of her sister. She held up the knife and smiled at it before plunging the metal into her sister’s still chest. She ignored David’s desperate screams. Elizabeth carved through Felicity’s flesh. Then she removed the knife and reached her hand to the crude hole she carved. After hacking at the body a bit more she was able to pull out the dripping red organ, her sister’s heart.

“Look at it, David,” Elizabeth demanded, leaning over the body and shoving the heart into his face. “Look at it! It’s her heart, David! You wanted it, didn’t you? All this time, you wanted it! I saw the letters. I know the truth! How about I just help you be with dear Felicity for eternity?” she had been screeching at her frightened husband but now her voice lowered to an icy whisper. “Would you like that, David?”

He attempted to fight against the ropes that held him but the excruciating pain in his head hindered him.

Elizabeth grew closer, the red knife was held out in front of her. David couldn’t stop his wife as she plunged the knife into his heart repeatedly. Over and over again, the knife went into his chest until his struggles grew feebler. Blood pooled on the sheets and Elizabeth’s exposed flesh was stained red.

When David finally stopped moving and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, Elizabeth repeated the same steps she took to carve out Felicity’s heart. It was harder with David because his blood was still fresh and it flowed from his body effortlessly. Finally she had the organ in her hand.

She stuck the knife through both of the lifeless hearts and threw them onto the blood soaked bed. Her husband and sister’s blank eyes stared at her; their faces were frozen in horror as she smiled at them.

“I’m sorry, dears, did I hurt you with my lie?”