Memoirs

To the Killer

To my father’s killer —

Did you ever dream, when you were young, you’d ever become such a horrible thing?  Did you think, I could never possibly become such a cold, heartless person?
Well, likewise, I never though, even for a second of my life, that I would have to hear the life-changing words: “Your dad has been killed.”
This letter has no rhyme, no figurative language, for those elements bring beauty to a piece.  You deserve no beauty at all, for what you’ve done is completely devoid of it.
After all, what more is beauty than something pure, good, and appealing in the eye of the beholder?
By what stretch of the imagination could what you’ve done be called any of those things?
How can you live with what you’ve done?  Have you ever known beauty, my dishonorable sir?
‘Sir’ is a title you don’t deserve, for ‘sir’ signifies respect.  I have none for you.  Consider my word a gift.
When you pulled the trigger, did you have any idea that you’d take my daddy away from me?  That you’d change my life, and so many other’s, forever?
You’ve taken a very loved man away from all.
I have nothing more to say to you, except this:  I pity you.  I can’t hate; my father taught me never to.  I only pray you’ll learn, and repent, and die.

         — The daughter of the man you killed