I wrote this as an idea for a story I may publish!! It's meant to be mysterious, tell me if you figured out what was going on, if I made it too obvious or too confusing. Anyways, just give me your thoughts please!! Would love to know if you'd read it or not!

I never expected to see you like this.

    I never expected to see you again, though my heart held out hope. Your face was darkened and ashy from soot, your hair was tangled like thick vines of a jungle, and smudges of face paint were smeared across your face. A frown was glued onto your lips, you looked like you were angry at the world. At the universe, for your fallen fate.

    You were everything to me.

    And you were dead.

    I remember spending the night at my friend's house. Antonia, I believe, was her name. I had a feeling twisting through my stomach that something was wrong- yet I ignored it.

    I shouldn't have.

    If I hadn't ignored it, I could have gone back home to see you one last time.

    One last time.

    "Mom! Dad!" I cried out, staring at the building I once called home, crippled to the ground and torn to pieces.

    I remember their names printed in the obituary in the newspaper, next to big fat letters that declared Lord Garmadon Saves the Day!!

    But your name wasn't there.

    An error? Or did I dare hope that....

    That you were still out there?

    When I say I searched for you, believe me. Every minute of my day was spent searching for you, for my life had no meaning without you.

    I would do anything to get you back.

    But I didn't. A full year passed before I stopped. I gave in. What hurt the most was the uncertainty-

    Were you alive?

    Guilt tore me apart at the idea that you were out there somewhere, alone, and I couldn't find you.

    But I did.

    Four years later, I found you lying on a hospital bed.

    Dead.

    I think you may have cried- had you been alive. Maybe we'd have hugged in our excitement about being reunited. You were always emotional, caring about everyone you met.

    But maybe that changed.

    Gang leader.

    Villain.

    Killer.

    You.

    I'd finally found you when I looked at the newspaper. There were stories about you, about how you'd taken over the city. I was scared, terrified out of my mind. But to learn you were in charge of the destruction of our city?

    Your rage was your downfall.

    I'd read every newspaper article, wondering how you'd changed so much. Who had adopted you? How had you managed to get the entire city under your control? Had you missed me?

    And, yet, the biggest one was simple:

    Why.

    Why had you gone from that sweet little girl I once adored, with springy pigtails and a constant smile, to a dark, dangerous gang leader?

    I felt so many feelings when I found you had become- had become...

    Evil.

    I was upset. Upset beyond upset. I realised the you I once knew was gone. You had become someone the city feared.

    But I didn't fear you.

    They didn't see your pain, didn't see that the trauma was what led to your slow dive into villainy.

    But I did.

    It was on your face in every picture. They released images of you, and I saw your adoptive parents. You were frowning in every one.

    And you were silent.

    The you I remembered was anything but silent, with your boundless energy and enthusiasm. The sky was the limit for you.

    I'd learned about your story- you were unhappy. You spiraled down a hole you couldn't climb out of, and no one was there to stop you.

    I should have been there to stop you.

    I should have searched more, I should have never given up the fight. I could have found you, stopped you from transforming into the villain you became.

    But I didn't.

    And you were painted as the villain.

    They saw the pain you inflicted on others: not your own.

    I felt sympathy for you, but I also knew you weren't you anymore.

    You were gone. Someone else was in your body.

    But that person in your body wasn't you, and you didn't deserve to have anyone believe that.

    If only they could see the real you.

    But that old you was dead.

    And more importantly, your body was dead.

    But maybe you didn't have to be dead.

    Maybe you could live on, through your twin sister.

    After all, who would ever know I exist? My name was never mentioned, you never spoke of me to your new friends, I could never be traced back to you as your twin.

    As far as they know, there's only one of you.

    Maybe you can have your happy ending.

    The ending I always dreamed we'd have, before.....

    You know what I mean.

    All I need is some hair dye.

    Love you, sis. You're not forgotten.

Love,
Your dear sister