Virgo was rising in the Eastern Sky. My sister walked barefoot amongst the asters. You know that's where they found her? In such a state they wouldn't permit my sight. Still I heard the caravan whispers within and without my tiny house. How the peach pink had left her fingertips until there was only blue, the manner in which her dress had been torn, and the terrible truth of her face, all but unrecognizable. There was an awfulness between the margins that resisted epithet; Even as I picture it now, the vision of lustmord wavers as if cast in mirage. Then it's gone. The bloody visage of my sister isn't buried with the wildflowers. It's clear as day in my memory. A nosebleed, swabbed up with rags and shirt sleeves. That's all it is. We're out behind the house and the tin bucket is overflowing with water. She kept pressing her head into it and wetting the loose strands of her hair. She stayed submerged for so long and in manner so still that I began to worry. She always came back up, gasping and grinning, the blood now diluted and pink but still streaming down her face. We should have known something was wrong then. They sanctified her after her death and in that way they forgot her. 

I never forgot her. My sister was my sister but she was never an angel. She was weighed down by the earthly things. I will never forget the way she looked in profile, messy curls in a messy dress, the corners of her mouth curved up in a smile. She would weave the two of us crowns out in the meadow and guide my fingers across newly formed dough. I will never forget the swears she would scream at me, the way tears would stream down her face without her even realizing she was crying, the nights where I'd find her rocking in the pasture, clutching at the dandelions. When I fall asleep, I find her there, alive in moonlight.

I lost parts of myself in the weeds and became something new - my sister's relic left behind. In keeping with tradition, I was kept under glass. My mother needed me then, clung to me as I once did her, when my body was new and fragile. Just like that, we were a house on stilts on eggshells. Just like that, I was trapped inside it. I remember little from those days but the wails of my mother and the gentle window to the sky. The cotton clouds rolled in each day. They were the only thing that changed, I thought. But I was changing too. I was changing too.

As it turned out, they would never let me leave. If it's a No after a year, it would have been a No forever. I was one of the lucky ones who found this out sooner rather than later. I understood what it meant for me. On the anniversary of her death, I crawled out of the window as the moon was high up in it. My bare feet sunk into the rich soil and carried me away from there, past the wooden fence and over the lush pastures, past my sister's grave and around the tree that had sprouted from her body. I saw her in the high branches, but she wouldn't look at me. Her eyes were set upon the pregnant moon. Still I walked.

The house came up on the hill. He had been living in the woods, feeding off the animals that called it their home and regurgitating the hard parts of them. Hung up against the wall was the knife, as long as my forearm. I scraped my nails against it - the blood chipped off like paint. When I came inside, he was asleep. It was as quick as it was silent. The stars did not acknowledge me. The bones of the fallen did not rustle or dissolve. I did not go home.

My parents lost two daughters. I sent them my condolences in the form of flowers. I sent them a letter. I was far too worn and far too afraid to ever face them again, but when their reply came I ripped the envelope open.

They were so, so proud of me. 

I guess that's what they were waiting for - someone to crush bones between her fingers and breed roses from the badlands. I became the saint they wanted, though less like Mary and more like Joan. I don't live in places with endless fields or gushing maidens any longer. In my dreams, my sister stands in the window with the moon behind her. I let go of the knife and follow her into the sky.