The Marked Letters
Chapter One
Dear Liam;
Don’t think I wanted to write you, because I didn’t. I really, really didn’t mean to write you considering the circumstances, but both of us know it will be necessary sooner or later anyway. There are things that are about more important things than... us. I made a promise to myself that I won’t write a second version of this letter in case the first one goes wrong and I’m neither going to cross out anything. Once, we promised ourselves to be honest to each other, didn’t we? Well, let’s just pretend that things hadn’t change ever since.
Life here is alright. I’m not used to living after such strict rules and traditions and especially I’m not used to everyone obeying. At home, the directors would tell us to keep our mouths shut when we wanted to watch and the camera was rolling and we would make jokes anyway. It was fine though, since something needed to be put in the bloopers as well. What I’m trying to say is that I’m impressed, because people here follow each of those rules quite strictly, but in their lives there seems to be little space for bloopers. No one would ever disobey, because they feel like it would probably destroy their society our something.
As I said already, I’m fine. I’ve stopped eating last week, since I was constantly throwing up the weird, extra sweet sugar fruits that can be harvested here. Even the water tastes strangely of sugar - thank God I’m not human. Maybe I feel a little lonely, because I don’t know anyone and people give me weird looks. Now I feel like I was writing in a diary, but again, not crossing out anything. Well, maybe you’ve skipped this paragraph anyway, because you don’t give a thing about how I’m doing.
Sorry, Liam, I didn’t mean to write three paragraphs without making it to the what needs to be said. I need someone to talk to about this and there’s no one, partially because I don’t know anyone here for long enough in order to be able to trust him and partially because I feel like people would think I was weird. Sometimes, I have nightmares about Marseille and I am reminded of some things that I was convinced I had only dreamed, but the longer I think about what we experienced the last weeks, I’m no longer that sure if those were truly only dreams.
Were you there when they picked me up in Berlin? I can’t even tell you how nervous I was. There was Ramon who was much more interested in flirting with that new make-up lady than finally calming me down and then there was my manager telling me to only smile and be nice. You know why, I told you about that whole party-paparazzi-scandal-thing, didn’t I? I could feel my heart beating in my chest like it was trying to break free while I felt sick, maybe because of the food, maybe because of that tight belt around my waist.
Standing behind the curtain, I wondered where my friends were. Friends. What a weird word. Kids at my age have friends that attend the same school. I had never been to a school. The curtain in front of me was blue, I remember it, because it was the kind of blue I wanted to have on my dress instead of that weird bonbon colored thing.
Suddenly, someone pushed me towards the curtain and I heard the crowd screaming outside as they believed I was entering the stage, but it was only a security man, pulling a man with him, his eyes dark black and on me. I began to shiver, but before I could memorize his face the curtain began moving.
The crowd outside was going wild just like the sick feeling in my chest. Something I couldn’t name hurt and it wasn’t only my feet forced into those High Heels. The carpet was orange, my favorite color at that time, and lead up to a staircase. I didn’t have time to glance at the cheering crowd in front of the stage as what was on the stage took my breath away. My managers, my teacher, my agents, all my sisters, my parents and my brother. All of them were there.
I began to shiver without knowing why as my eyes got caught on a man pushing through the crowd. It was the man the security man had lead away who was now heading for a woman waiting at the side, rolling her eyes as teenagers were constantly pushing her away to get a better look at me. As she found him, she seemed in shock before she started talking, fast and loud. The image of her gesturing is the last thing I can remember before passing out.
The longer I think about it, the more convinced I become that it was Anouk. I’ve dreamed about her image several times, but I can’t recall her facials. When I first met Anouk, I wasn’t reminded on it, but by now I’m almost sure. Isn’t it weird that the image of this man of all Marked Ones is the one stuck in my head? Can you guess who he was? I’ll tell you later. Do you remember the shock after your change? There are moments when I believe I had been Marked forever and sometimes I feel like the change was just yesterday. In a way, it was just yesterday.
I wonder whether life is better here in Mozart than it used to be in Marseille. There’s no hiding, no need to conceal the tattoo when we go out. On the other hand, around Mozart there aren’t any places to go – no shops, no cinemas, nothing that reminds me of my human life. I believe it’s what I need right now after all the fuss, but it makes me sad as well. By the way, I’ve started changing and I feel weird about it. There’s a red spot on my forehead now. I should be glad that I get to be a teenager again, shouldn’t I?
Looking back at everything between passing out and waking up again, I can’t really define which of the images left in my head were only dreams and which were real. Maybe I was always aware of what was going on around me, maybe everything I saw was unreal. I knew that the feeling of being unable to move my money should’ve given me the creeps, but it didn’t. Instead I felt perfectly calm while I felt my body hurting as if I was being burnt.
From that memory, I can remember the man’s face as if I had seen it here in Mozart. The memories from my human life are sort of shaky when I try to recall them, but the dreams aren’t as sharp as the memories from my second life as well. They are between.
He showed up next to my bed and he touched the tattoo that was just appearing on my waist. It was bleeding as the black lines were piercing my skin, but after taking a look at it he turned around and went on. I was shaking inside, but I couldn’t move and couldn’t turn around.
I could hear the scream before I understood it came out of my mouth. The last memory that didn’t look weird in my head was my birthday bash, the sickness in my stomach, the wet eyes of my parents, the cheers of the fans in the background. Suddenly though, I was on a bed in a room as white as a hospital room, although I knew it wasn’t a hospital room. Don’t ask me why, it was intuition, I just knew. Next to me, there was a girl, pinned to the bed with a rope around her waist to keep her in place.
I was expecting to find the man’s face somewhere in this room, but it wasn’t there. Instead there was woman with calm, brown eyes, staring at me as if I was something special. The truth hit me within seconds. I was a child star, I was famous, I was rich. And for all three of those reasons I was now being kidnapped. The fact hit me so hard I leant over the empty chair next to my bed only to vomit on the floor that was the only thing in there that wasn’t white.
When I think about it now, the memory of the man still looks weird. He had dark eyes, darker than most eyes I had seen before, but by now it’s become normal to me. His hair was short, maybe he was even bald, and he was wearing a white shirt and black pants that looked like they were made of leather, but somehow I guessed they weren’t.
Outside my window, I can see the kids playing hide and seek. I love seeing kids again, I love knowing that maybe I will have some, too, one day.
All of a sudden, the girl on the bed next to mine began screaming and I did, too, because the girl had woken up. Her eyes were widened and red in a way that didn’t make it look like her eye color was actually red but rather like there were small, red rings around her pupils. Her body was covered in a thin, white material and as she tensed up, veins became visible on her neck. Not in the way that they emerged but rather like I could see the red blood running below the thin skin.
In the moment I moved, something else caught my attention though. What had they done to my body? All of a sudden, my feelings came back to me and everything was there again. I felt sick and the feeling reminded me of cheers and tears, but what was much worse was my waist. It felt like it was burning and I had a strong desire to look at what was going on, but I couldn’t as I felt too weak. I was convinced there was no skin left on my hip and the bones beneath it were burning as they were opposed to the outside.
The next thing I remember is darkness, but it only covered my eyes. I couldn’t see anything, maybe because everything in front of me was suddenly dark and all lights were turned out, maybe even because I actually passed out again. It didn’t make a difference as I was unable to move anyway.
What wasn’t taken away from me though were my ears. I could hear screams that were high and piercing and followed by curses that I didn’t understand, but just from the voice I could hear it was a female and it sounded like some nasty words. It’s funny that my last memories of something never seem to be good ones.
You can guess who that man was, can’t you? I know you can. We spent so many nights talking about him at the camp, because I was so scared of him. He was always showing up again and again, around the cabins, at the lake, sometimes even during training. In my human life I had never seen such black eyes. I don’t think I can ever forget that look. Looking back at the camp time, I’m disgusted by how weak I was. I just wonder why you weren’t disgusted by me.
I missed a question at the beginning. How are you doing? Maybe you think I neither care. I’ve told you so much now that I guess that question would be appropriate though. What’s Anouk up to now that she’s back? I haven’t been able to keep in touch with her.
In a way I hope that you expect me to say I miss you. Maybe I do. But just maybe. Liam, I need to live my life and I need to do it now, in this place, where I finally get a chance to.
Love, Jolie
