"What? Not used to seeing the assumed-dead yet?" The girl asked, her voice dripping with sarcastic apology.
"You're dead," I managed to stutter. "You died before Mom and Dad even did!"
"Wrong!" She snarled.
"You did die, I'm positive," James said, somwhat unsure. "We attended your funeral. Your body was in the coffin, Angelica." I shuddered at her name. I never had liked my bratty little sister, but seeing this...thing of her was even worse. It made me clutch the ancient shoebox even harder, until the cardboard started to cave in ymy hands.
"What's in the box?" Angelica asked, her blue eyes sparkling with raging curiousity. When neither of us answered, they grew darker. "Give me the box!"
I shook my head, in too much shock to even speak. The sister-thing stood from her rickity old rocking chair, and walked up to me, looking up into my eyes. She was a good four inches shorter than me. At least that much was normal- She was three years younger than me.
"Give. Me. The box." Her voice was quiet, like a whispy cloud. In a way, it held a strange beauty to it.
"Just give it to her," James urged from a few feet away. I bit my lip, worried. Should I give her what I had spent five years of my life protecting? Or was it worth dying for?
A/N- I wrote enough to give you a lead for part four. Your turn Libbie!
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