Cutler 01 - Dawn

different things were then. It was like we were two completely different people. In a real way I suppose we were, I thought. We could never go back to the way things had once been . . . when I had believed in fairy tales and happy endings.
    "You mustn't hate me," he said, pretending to plead for understanding. "You mustn't!" he insisted.
    "I don't hate you, Philip." He smiled. "But I feel sorry for you," I added quickly, wiping the smile off his face. "You can never change what happened between us, and you can never change the way I feel about you. Whatever feelings I had for you died the night you raped me."
    "I wasn't lying to you," he protested. "Dawn, I love you. With all my heart and soul. I can't help the way I feel about you."
    "Well, you'll just have to! You've got to help it, Philip. I'm your sister. Do you understand? Your sister! You've got to get over it. You can't love me! I'm sure you won't have trouble finding a new girlfriend."
    "I suppose not," he said arrogantly, "but that doesn't mean I won't be thinking about you. I don't want a new girlfriend, Dawn. I want you. Only you. Why don't we spend one last night together . . . just talking," he suggested and lay back on my pillow. "For old time's sake."
    I couldn't believe him! How could he make such a suggestion? After everything I had just said, Philip still wanted to . . . The thought sickened me. Philip sickened me. I could no longer stand to look at him. Just as Clara Sue and I would never have a sibling relationship, neither would Philip and I. I had to get him out of my sight. Before I said something I regretted. Before I did something I regretted. I pre-tended to hear something in the hallway.
    "Someone's coming, Philip. It might be Grandmother. She said she wanted to speak with me later."
    "Huh?" He sat up quickly and listened. "I don't hear anyone."
    "Philip," I said, looking worried. He got up quickly and came to the door.
    "I don't hear anybody," he said. I pushed past him and shoved him out, closing the door and locking it quickly.
    "Hey!" he cried. "That's sneaky."
    "Sneakiness runs in this family," I said. "Now go away."
    "Dawn, come on. I want to make it all up to you, show you I can be warm and loving without attacking you. Dawn? I'll stay here all night. I'll sleep at your door," he threatened.
    I ignored him, and after a while he got disgusted and left. I was finally alone with my own thoughts. I pulled the chair up to the little table, took out a pen and paper, and began.
     
    Dear Daddy,
    No matter what has happened, I realize I will always call you Daddy. I realize I am writing to you before you even had a chance to respond to my first letter, but I wanted you to know I have learned the truth. I have spoken with the woman who had been my nurse, Mrs. Dalton, and after that I confronted my mother and she confessed.
    I then demanded a meeting with Grandmother Cutler and learned it all firsthand. I want you to know that I don't blame you or Momma for anything, and I know that once Jimmy learns the facts, he will feel the same way I do.
    They are sending me off to a school for per-forming arts in New York City. Grandmother Cutler mostly wants to get rid of me, but it's what I always wanted to do, and I think it's best I get away from here anyway.
    We still don't know where Fern is, but I hope that someday she will be back with you . . . her real father. I don't know what has become of Jimmy yet, but he ran away from one bad family and was found here and taken back. Perhaps you and he will be together again very soon. Grandmother Cutler has promised to do what she can to get you an early parole.
    You always said that I brought you sunshine and happiness. I hope this letter brings some to you during what must be your darkest days. I want you to know that whenever I do sing, I will be thinking of you and your smile and all the love you and Momma gave me.
    Love, Dawn
     
    I sealed the letter with a kiss and put it in an envelope. In the morning I would have it mailed.
    I really was very, very tired. Moments after my head touched the pillow and my eyes were closed, I began to drift toward a much welcomed sleep. The sounds of the hotel died away quickly. My short but dramatic life here was coming to an end.
    I'm still being whisked away, I thought. I'm not in Daddy's car, and I'm not leaving in the middle of the night, but I'm on the road again, searching, always searching, for a place to call home.

 
EPILOGUE
     
    Whether it was out of a