"Fear Me, For I Am Death"

“The LORD is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?” How can you not fear no man when one is about to steal away your life away from you? Stop tormenting yourself Nate, what’s done is done. There’s absolutely no way of changing the past, just live with your mistakes… While you still have the chance. In one month my life is over. One month. 30 days, 270 measly hours. What a pity? Yes, I brought this onto myself. Though, I did not premeditate what I was going to do that night.  Oh, poor Mary Ann, my beloved wife charred - burnt to a hideous black crisp. How I miss my angel, but I will never get to see her again. Hell is my only option; I am a dire, terrible person. God would not want me corrupting his beautiful angels with murderous monsters, like myself. What possessed me to commit such a sin?



“Nathanael Thanatos?” I heard a man, most likely a guard, call from no more than a few meters away from my dark cell.



“Yes?” I replied smugly with false hope that I got a reply back to my 34 letters that I sent to my son the past year I’ve been awaiting on my death.  I waited for him to speak again for what seemed to be 2 minutes. No reply? Who would deliberately call my name and then not reply when I answered? Was I just imagining that whole thing; maybe hallucinating for that matter?



“Yes?” I recalled to the imaginary voice, but yet again, no answer. Should I go to my cell door to see what he could have possibly have wanted me for? I think I shall. I slumped onto the floor off of my hard mattress and trudged the small distance from my bunk bed to the cold metal bars that are considered to be my door. How welcoming this place that I will spend the rest of my short life is. I peeked out of my cell and checked, then double checked for the man that spoke of my voice. I saw none.

“Oh Nathan this place has made you a loon!” I mumbled to myself convinced that I just completely made up this so called voice that spoke my name.  I managed to drag my feet back onto my bed. Maybe I shall re-read “The Raven” to get my mind off of this momentarily craziness that I experienced. I got through one page before the hideous thoughts returned.



“Go Away!” I screeched at the horrid memories in my mind. “Leave me be, never return!” I keep replaying Mary Ann’s loud high-pitched scream as she lay tied to blood stained bed, while the fire drug her in its hot grasp. I wish I could change that night. I could have handled the rage that I felt towards her for divorcing me in a different way.  Perhaps not in violence that made her get the restraining order against me. She wouldn’t even let me meet my child. That leech! He is my child too! I still have parenting rights, maybe I wouldn’t be the best father to him but he is still my child. Mine. All I wanted was to meet my son, but she got in the way. I just wanted to be able to look at his face; just once. What haunts me is if that I wouldn’t have ever been a terrible husband I could have been a father. My only wish was to be there for my child, unlike my dad was to me, but now I’m worse than the pig my father was. At least he only left; I beat my son’s mother and murdered her. I can’t blame him; I wouldn’t want to meet me either. I don’t even know my only sons name. Some father I am. Maybe I could repay him before I experience my death maybe I could do something, anything, for him to forgive me. No amount of letters will make up for what I did, but I can still try. I grabbed the mechanical pencil that was on the cold concrete floor beneath my bunk bed and pulled out the yellow scratch paper that was held underneath my pillow that supplies me no comfort. Thus, I had begun to write to my mother-in-law’s house, she was best likely to get custody of my now, 5 year old son.



            ‘Dear Josephine’ I had written ‘Well now, as you probably already know, I only have 30 days left to live my life, which you are probably very grateful for. But you will never understand the agony I have faced not being able to meet my son. No that was not a reason enough to go against one of gods most mighty rules, but I didn’t know what to do. Mary Ann wouldn’t even give me a picture of him. I never found out his name. Wouldn’t you do anything for your daughter? Well I just wanted to meet him. Just to hear his voice before I am forced to have my heart stopped. I will do whatever it takes. Just please, please try to understand my pain. Living my life not knowing who my son is or what he will become. It’s pure agony.

                                                                                                         Thank you for taking the time to read this,

                                                                                                                                 Nathaniel Thanatos’

I picked up the small piece of scratch paper and folded it into three even slivers. I retraced my steps back to my door to ask one of the guards for an envelope.



“Guard!” I called out onto the hallway. I heard footsteps stumble towards my door.



“Can I help you?” A voice that showed authority called back to me.



“Yes, Sir, May I have an envelope. I would like to send my family a letter.” I replied.



“Really, another one? That’s the fourth one this week!” The guard observed.



“Yes, I know. I just would like to make sure my family will help me out with something extremely important to me.” I said glumly.



“Is it your kid again? Don’t you ever think about just giving up? I mean what you did is kind of tremendously hurtful to a kid. Ever wonder how he feels?” The guard said back to me.



“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think you understand how crazy I have not known my son. Officer, do you have children?” I questioned the man.



“Yes. I have 2 kids.” He said matter-of-factly. “They are twins, two girls. The cutest things I ever laid eyes on.” The guard grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket lifted it up in between my railings. What I saw was two beautiful chocolate brown faces looking almost identical with big brown eyes that make your heart want to melt. They were wearing matching pink outfits, holding hands with a grin stretched further apart then the Grand Canyon.



“They just turned 4.” The guard continued.



“Oh, how nice, what do you think your life would be like without your daughters in it?” I challenged.



“Not too good, I suppose.” The officer mumbled knowing that I have a right to never give up on my children.



“See.” I muttered while handing him the perfectly folded paper that I was holding on to so tightly in my hand. The guard took the paper, unwillingly slipped it into the envelope, and handed it back to me. Then marched onto the direction for where he came. I took the white container then licked the sides until they became sticky then shut the folds. I flipped over the white envelope then begun to write Josephine’s address.  I really hope she replies to this one, but I know I shouldn’t have false hope. I can’t help but think there might be a chance for this though. I heard some people say they would do anything for their kids. So why is murdering for your child so bad? If you say you do anything then why not absolutely everything. I am a man of my word not a hypocrite.



A whole week had slowly dragged on as I waited for the reply to my letter. Every morning I would jolt up out of bed and run to my door to as the guard if I had any mail, but to no one’s surprise, nothing came.



It was 10 days after I sent out the letter and I begun to lose hope. I didn’t even walk to the door when I first opened my eyes. I spent my morning skimming over passages from the Holy Bible, reading between the lines attempting to find any scripture that made what I did seem not so rotten. I kept reading Exodus 20:13 over, and over again. It simply stated “Thou shall not kill” this simple rule, 4 little words, changed my whole life. It was about noon when a heard a recognizable voice call me.



“Nathan?” The voice called.



“What is it?” I replied.



“You have a visitor.” The same guard said to be with a tint of the same amount of surprise as I felt. I stood straight up and walked to my now open cell door. The guard placed the cuffs tightly onto my wrists and led me to the visitation room. During that short walk I attempted to conceal the surprise that my face clearly showed. Who possibly would want to visit me, a murderer? I started running through a list of names that I was close with. I didn’t have any friends, my mother died, my father left, who could it possibly be?!



“This room.” The suddenly pleasant guard said while nodding towards a room that was called ‘VISITATION ROOM 3’ the guard unlocked the door and lead me into a cement wall room with only a dull colored waist high table at the center. Sitting at the table was a middle aged woman with curly dark brown hair. She dressed very classy as if she just got done attending a conference or meeting for work. Her heels made her taller than me, and I’m 5’ 10”.  She stood on the other side of the table across from the seat I was about to place my butt on. I sat down slowly, and so did she. We sat in 5 minutes in complete silence.



I finally broke the silence by saying “Hello.” She didn’t even care enough to say ‘Hi’

back. “What made you decide to come here today?” I continued trying to make her speak to me.

“Sure as hell I didn’t come here for you!” She said is a smock tone.



“Then why did you come here Josephine?” I questioned showing no sign of irritation toward her.



“I came here to tell you to stop trying with the whole ‘I changed!’ crap! You are not going to meet your son. He doesn’t want to and you don’t deserve to. You think after you killed his mother, my wonderful daughter, he would want to meet your disgustingness? No. No never. I will make sure that it will not happen! Do I make myself clear?” She said in the nastiest tone that reminded me of the way that my mother would treat me when she got angry.



“What’s him name?” Was my only reply to her rant.



“What’s it to you!” She said with more attitude than a teenage girl.



“It’s everything to me. My son is everything to me.” I said ashamed with my head down.



“If he was truly everything to you, you wouldn’t have killed his mother.” She said with a little bit of compassion hiding under her nasty facial expression.



“I killed Mary Ann for him! You don’t… “



“How does committing murder help your son at all?!” She rudely interrupted with fierce new anger in her voice.

“She didn’t let me see my own son. She pushed me too far.” I answered



“After you abused and raped my daughter do you really think she would let you in her son’s life? She was only protecting him. You would have lashed out on him like you did to Mary Ann. You should thank her for not letting you hurt your son like you did to her. It saves you the guilt, does it not?” She said smartly



“I would never harm my son.” I said my completely calm façade starting to disappear. “Do you really think that I meant to do what I did to your daughter, it was only an accident. I’m paying for what I did right now, in this hideous jail!"



“Well yes, but there’s no way that you going to prison makes up for Mary Ann live! Did you even care think about how all of her loved ones would feel? You killed your sons’ mother, you animal! You burnt her to a char.” She said with extreme loathing.



“You don’t understand the sorrow I feel towards you, and Mary’s family. I have nothing, except my son to live for now. I just want to see his face. After that, I don’t care how I die. I just will want death.” I said eagerly.



“Well, you might as well go ahead and find out some sick way to murder me too, because the only way your meeting Alexander is over my dead body.” She said while standing up and signaling to the guard that waited by the door that she was finished with this visit. Did she realize that she just told me his name? Alexander, how beautiful!



“Hey, man you alright?” Said the friendly guard who had got the job of watching over us during our visit.



“Yes, I just wanted to know a little of information about him. Knowing his name is more than I thought that I was going to get from her.” I said with strange happiness that this mystery on knowing my sons name is finally solved.



“Okay, then let’s go back to your cell.” The tall man said as he held open the bullet proof door to let me walk out with him. We walked the short distance in complete silence. He obviously felt sorrow towards me, but I am extremely pleased that I found this minute piece of information about my long lost son.



We had arrived back to my cell were they locked me away and he took of the tight handcuffs and freed me unto the small space. Little did he know what I was planning. I feel like my life is complete, and this sense of completion will be ruined if I live another second. I want to die happy. If I live until my death sentence I will just wonder more and more about Alexander and that will drive me mad. I might as we’ll die happy. I picked up the white cotton sheet that laid upon my bed and begun to tie it in a familiar knot with two bands that ran parallel to each other. I tied the knot to the top of my bunk bed until with was sturdy. I climbed up the two stairs to the top of my bunk bed. I crawled to where the knot was made and a kneeled above it staring down to the cement floor. I had begun picturing in my mind what I would have done with Alexander as if they were memories; holding him in blue scrubs crying knowing that this baby will be mine forever, teaching a beautiful toddler the right way  to catch a baseball, driving him and his team all around for practice with pride because they won their championships. Everything that a father should have done, I pretended that I already did. I picked up the soft white circular knot and placed it around my neck.



“I love you Alexander.” I said over and over again.

Then I jumped.