My mother made the majority of us out of sand. Mine, was stained in blood. Which really is misleading. I am actually the sweetest out of all my siblings. Ask Miriam! I am a representation of all the blood that was spilled in the sacrifices for her god, our god.

There was a particular sacrifice I was born from, created from. They took a priestess to the alter drawn in the desert sand, on the Mors, they say she was beautiful, too beautiful, and they slit her throat for it, burned the body. Our mother gathered that blood coated sand and erected a daughter.

And I rose not from ashes, but from blood.

For my eyes, Mama, took the emerald earrings she was wearing and placed them beneath the crimson of my eyelids. They are bright and stark against the red of my face. Precious gifts, not so snake like, unlike some of my siblings, nor are they so effortlessly beautiful like Adonai’s. They look like Corradh’s eyes, and I am reminded of how much Mama loved her sons, and even if she did not give him a twin, she would not leave him lonely.

I look the most like Hagar, which in turn, could mean I look the most like Pilate, but I would hardly stretch it that far, if only because of the consequences of my reach makes to touch against his holiness of skin.

My siblings are scholars, princes, medics. I am none of these things. The fire my mother put into my blood, it always ensured I was destined to dance, to move, to flow, (and burn). I am built as such, lighter and smaller than my siblings, I give the illusion I am far younger than I actually am. I am the perfect ballerina, it is the only reason that I know the rumors are true about our mother and her creations, no other in the company was created quite like me. My mother wanted a dancer, a flame, and she got one.

She always got what she wanted—maybe that is the gift my mother gave to me.

Our family does not have crocodile smiles, not matter how false they may be. No, we are much to clever for that.

We have the smiles of snakes.

I am the one that smiles and kisses their cheeks. I tell them they are my favorite brother, my favorite sister. I tell them how much like Mama they are and how I wish I was more like them.

“Pilate lies Adonai, you know I love you best.”
“Oh Pilate, I could never admire Adonai the way I do you.”
“Ruth is jealous of you Miriam, told me herself, though she wont show it.”
Hagar, you are far prettier than Miriam, Mother made you special.”
“Who says the eldest sons are first in line for the throne, Corr?”

Not everyone can do what I do. It takes a special talent to swallow your pride and wash another in compliments.

I am the easiest to love of my siblings. Since I was a year and a half, I have been with the ballet, a bit young, but they thought me talented enough to join, talented enough to become, on my second birthday, the lead in our production. I saw the way the other girls looked at me. Like I had taken their dreams and fed them to one of Pilate’s snakes.

I am the easiest to love because I am the absent one, it is far easier to hate a body than it is to hate the space it once held. It is why hating the dead is so difficult.

(I sometimes wonder if this is why Pilate and Adonai have never actually killed each other. They would never admit it, but they do love to hate each other, don't they?)

I am Mama’s youngest child now. When I go through the streets of the court everyone looks at me with such pity and sorrow. How terribly sad that she had to grow up without their parents. And with a sick brother? That poor, poor girl. I wear black to tell them I am mourning. I wear black because it reminds me of ashes, and how fire brings everyone down.

Mama yelled at Corradh for what seemed like forever. She could not believe he would be so heartless as to kill Hagar’s pet. I stand beside Hagar, hugging close to her, all while mouthing to Corr that I believe him, that he didn't do it. And, I am honest, (as I always am), I know Corradh did not do this.

It was so lucky for me, that Mama made me red as blood.

I have often contemplated sneaking into Miriam’s room at night and cutting off all her hair. The very thing that she thinks makes her so special. I would hang it on Hagar’s door and wait for her to notice it come morning. It would dangle there, those curls still as corkscrew. It would sit there and wait for her. Hagar would do it, if she had the thought to and probably more. I know my sisters. Miriam simply has the right to know of Hagar’s ill intentions.

Mathew. He is my servant in the mornings, he helps me dress, he puts together my breakfast. I have wondered what he does when I am not here. Does he even exist on a plane without myself? Mama had said it was inappropriate for me to have a male servant, but I picked him out special. He was homeless, hungry, begging on the streets of Solterra Court. I brought him home, cleaned him up, told him I would protect him. He is perhaps a few months older than myself. He made a lot of mistake in the beginning, dropping my tray of breakfast, picking out the wrong shawl, not properly matching my accessories. But he learned. I watched him, watched him fumble, watched him shake. All until he finally learned.

Sometimes though, when he brushes my hair, I can still feel a tremor, when our eyes find each other’s in the mirror.

‘To feed hate with hate, was like cutting off the hydra’s head to let two more sprout in its stead,’ Adonai preached at me. I would remain silent during his lectures, hang my head in faux shame that I could disappoint my eldest brother, The Prince! But inside my head I think, ‘Go for the heart then. Love that beast until it lets you in—then rip it apart from the inside out.’

I never met Miriam the younger. Her birth, her death, I missed all of it, on tour with the company. Mother created the youngest, she wrote me, telling me of her. I read her letter between shows, asked if I should come home. She said finish the tour. The baby will be here waiting, she said.

I returned home for the holiday, and there was not a breath of anyone younger than I. I asked Miriam the elder, in the quiet of her room one night, she told me to be quiet and to not discuss things I do not understand.

She was right though.
I didn't understand it.
So I do not discuss it.

I love my siblings the way an author loves their characters, I make stories of them. During dinner, every evening I am home, I look at all of them and wonder who to make the hero out of.

(I’m still deciding.)

I dance much like the cobra from its wicker basket. But do not confuse me, for I will never be a snake.

I am its charmer instead.

Dear Miriam,

Sorry I have not written in some time, the ballet company is keeping me busy. Of course, I am a natural talent, as Mama intended me to be, it is not so much impressive as it is just to be expected at this point.

How are the boys? Are they still fighting? The picture you sent along last time, Adonai looked awfully tired.

How about my sisters? How are they? Please keep Hagar out of my room, you do know how I hate it when others rummage through my things. Speaking of my things, I asked Corr to deliver me a box of assorted items, but you know Corr. Please see to it that he sends me these items. They are some keepsakes of each of my siblings. I miss you all so much.

I am aware though, that I am missing a keepsake for Miriam the Younger. Perhaps send something along. I saw her in the picture as well,

XOXO,

Delilah I.

Letter written to Miriam while on tour with the Day Ballet Company.

Dear Mama,

You have not written back in quite some time. Is there something you are not telling me?

XOXO,

Delilah I.

Letter written to Delilah’s mother after her mother’s passing. It was received by Miriam and burned to ashes, least it cause a stirring of drama and grief in the household.

Physical

Delilah is in good overall health. She is petite, but I am not concerned, she is active and able-bodied. She still is taller than her sibling Ruth was at this age. I think with her high stamina and athleticism she will do well in the ballet company, even if she is a little on the young side to be leaving home. She was able to pass the physical assessment with flying colors.

Psychological

We moved onto the psychological evaluation. She plays on the floor while I ask her questions. I ask Delilah about her parents to which she told me “that they are the greatest of parents,” and she said it with such a smile on her face. I ask her if she believed she and her siblings were all truly made and not born. She said of course, how else were each of them so perfect? I do not know if I quite believe this, but it led into the perfect way to begin questioning about her siblings. I ask about the strife between her older brothers, and how it affects her. “They are fighting?” She asked with such childhood innocence. “Oh dear, well I hope they solve it soon, they are just the best brothers a girl could ask for,” she said. I can only assume she knows little of what is going on in the home. But I noticed a glint in the corner of her mouth, which could only be taken as a smile. She was busy then, playing with her dolls. I asked her if they had names. “Yes,” she responded. “Miriam, Hagar, and Ruth,” she said. I thought how endearing, named her dolls after her sisters. But I noticed Miriam’s red hair cut into a short blunt cut. Hagar’s mouth was tapped over. Ruth’s limbs were made not from toy, but from stone. I asked her if these were her favorite dolls and she looked at me in surprise. “Oh, no, they aren’t,” she said and I was surprised. “These are only my pretend dolls,” she said and went back to playing. She did not look at me again. I concluded the evaluation.

Results

I believe Delilah Ieshan to be well suited to join the Day Ballet Company. I think spending some time away from the family and with the Company will be…healthy. If any concerns should arise….did not hesitate to reach out.

Note from the family Doctor to clear Delilah to join the ballet company

Pilate and……..I think with Adonai. The boys are always fighting, I hate it so…………..Maybe Corr can. I sometimes like to imagine that because Mama made our eyes the same, that sometimes I can see through his. And when I do I………………….It is terrifying in the best way. I think I know Corr better than the rest…………………………….and he is right in his thinking.

Miriam is…….Younger. I often stop to wonder if………because it seems probable in my opinion. I have stopped guessing though.

I think Ruth is starting to……………………..-ost likely solution. She is the most hesitant of me, maybe it’s……………………..And then there is Hagar, I heard her telling Pilate……………………I listened when they thought I was asleep, but had they looked closer they would have seen I had not drank my tea. I never slept without drinking my tea first.

Mathew tells me he heard……………………….and I believe him when he tells me. He heard it from the cooks and they heard it from………………………..My breakfast boy is a good boy.

Journal entires from Delilah, it looks as if part of it is scratched out with ink. Still yet, there are pages ripped out and missing.

Delilah wears a black, silk outfit. It is light enough for the desert. Some say she wears black because she is still in mourning over the loss of her parents.