From Both Points of View

The next morning, I woke and quickly ate breakfast. Silvie was silent, and I knew wondered what she was pondering on. She picked at her food and ate hardly a bite.

After breakfast we went to my bedroom. I felt the urge again, and before I knew it, my pencil was moving in my hand. My fingers seemed to flow with energy. It started in my brain, like a horrible itchy rash. I knew it was to come on paper. I knew it was to be on Silvie. I saw the pain in it. My eyes started to water as this rash appear on the paper.
The man jabbed with his sword, injuring the girl. For a moment the thought struck me that the writing wasn't even that good, but then common sense caught up with me and I realized what I was writing. This is Silvie!
I was dimly aware of her crying my name, screaming at me to stop. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop.

{from Silvie's point of view}
"Sienna, stop! Stop writing! Please, Sienna, stop!" I felt chills trace up and down my spine as I saw my fate being written out before me. And then I felt it; a sharp pain in my leg. I was afraid to look down. I had taken my eyes off of Sienna's pencil for a moment, and I didn't know how serious the injury was. Blood stained my jeans, and I felt my legs give way. Falling to the ground with a sharp cry, I grabbed Sienna's shirt and wrapped it around the injury tightly. After a time, I dared pull it away. It wasn't too bad-only about a thumb's width deep, and as long as the length of a thumb. I could probably get away with a tight bandage and not a word said about it. I had long decided that no one could learn about this, for fear that Sienna would be sent to one of the insane asylum that I had read about in my fantasy books. Now, I was having second guesses. Why does she want to hurt me? I am her best friend! I thought she loved me!

It was then that I realized that she was staring at me in horror. The pencil had fallen from her hand, and she was gaping at me. She mouthed, tears coming to her eyes, "I am so sorry, Silvie. I-I can't-" She trailed off, letting her head fall hard on the desk, perhaps has penance.

Ignoring her, I stood, and limped painfully to the far corner. There I sat, fighting the anger which screamed in my mind. How could Sienna do this to me? I don't want to even know her anymore. I wish we had never met!

I felt a sob rising in me. Trying to fight it, I opened my eyes and turned my gaze toward the window. But they stopped as a flash of white caught them. Before me stood an aged man, clad all in white, as beautiful as the morning and as wise as the dawn. I knew that the instant that I saw him. I began to tremble, and lowered my eyes to the ground. I couldn't look at him. I just couldn't. But then a voice, soft and gentle, full of unimaginable love, broke into my fears. "My child. Do not be afraid."
I looked up then, for I wanted to see this glorious figure which was like a solace and a hiding place.
"Why are you crying?"
I knew that this man knew why I was crying. But he wanted me to tell him. So I did. "It's Sienna! She's trying to kill me or-or-do something terrible to me!"
His face softened. "She is battling a grave evil, dear one, one that she is too weak to hold fast against."
I felt my heart sink. I had hoped for help from this man. "Then what can I do? I'm afraid of her!"
"My child, she is still your Sienna. She loves you and you could not understand the pain that this causes her. Do not hold back your understanding-I know that you long to give it. Do not let your anger get in the way. She loves you, Silvie. You hold much sway on her mind. If you hold strong, you can help her."
"But how-" But suddenly I realized that he was gone. The light had gone, the beauty shattered. I was alone. With Sienna. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to do this? I need to know how!

{Sienna again}

I felt heartbroken. My heart cried, Silvie, if only you knew! If only you felt what I feel! I don't want to hurt you! I would sooner hurt myself than you, but I can't help it!
But I couldn't. She wouldn't know that I was speaking from my utter heart. I wouldn't blame Silvie for hating me. I hated myself right then.
She was curled up in the corner, an odd expression on her face, gazing at the wall as if seeing beauty itself. I didn't even want to wonder about it. I didn't care.
Suddenly the feeling came again, sharper this time. My mind screamed in protest, but my hand obeyed.
My misery intensified as the words turned to sentences. I was hurting Silvie again, but this time, it was ten times worse.
I realized that she was at my side, but only dimly.


{Silvie}
I sat up slowly, taking a shaky breath, and limped toward Sienna. I had to talk this over with her. But then her eyes glazed over-an all too recognizable look now, and she began to write furiously.
I quickened my pace, and soon was at her side. My eyes widened as I saw what she was saying. I began to grow frantic as I read the beginning of the terrible sickness which I would soon have.
Willing my voice not to shake, I said, "Sienna, stop right now. I will not let you do this to me. Stop this. Win this battle, Sienna! Be strong! Listen to me! Don't you remember me? I am Silvie!"

{Sienna}
The voice broke into my thoughts like thunder on a still day. "I will not let you do this to me. Stop this. Win this battle, Sienna! Listen to me! Don't you remember me? I am Silvie!"
The urge only intensified, but the picture of my friends distressed, pale face was engraved in my mind. I wanted to stop, more than anything I wanted to stop. It took all of my strength, but with a jerk my hand was free. The pencil dropped. I tore the page into a million pieces.
I turned my eyes to Silvie. She was crying. I hugged her-since this terrible ordeal had started I had wanted to do it, but hadn't dared. Now I did. And Silvie hugged back.