The Last Letter Chapters 1-5

Introduction, The Last Letter

Dear reader…

My name is Jason. Today has been the last day I have been pushed around. I cannot handle it anymore. Today is the day I breathe my last breath. I know the pain I am going to leave behind is unthinkable, but the pain I go through every day. I can’t.

This is a letter to say goodbye. To capture my last seconds still alive. To tell the world how I feel.

Today I was mocked because of my music choice. They didn’t like the way I dressed and the music I listened to. The biggest of the five walked over to me. He gave me a cold smile and took my earphones. As he listened to it his facial expression changed to being kind of mad. He threw the IPod over the floor, shattering it into pieces. I started walking away, saying nothing. They just followed me down the hall, shouting things at me. I didn’t listen.

Today was kind of not so bad. I have been punched in the face while drinking water. “This is our bathroom, get OUT,” they shouted to me. My hair was black and long. I wore all black clothes and listened to metal. I loved reading horrors; I really liked to write all day. I never had friends and the girls never looked at me.

I started doing porn when I was 12. It made me feel good, because they never rejected me. But when I look back, I feel dirty. I feel like a fool, guilty. I hated it. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I liked it, but hated it.

My family constantly fought. They shouted at each other, and my dad hit me with his fists. He even once burned me with a cigarette. I hated them. I didn’t care about them, because they never loved me. I wanted a real mother and father. I would cry in the night really hard, wanting to feel appreciated and comforted by someone.

I hated God. He was never present in my life. I didn’t know who He was. He didn’t do anything for me. The Christians in school were always so happy. They never even looked at me. Fuck them.

The teachers always shouted on me. I did my homework, but they still shouted. They never said “well done”. They never looked at me. They never smiled at me once. No one ever smiled to me.

I went to church once. They threw me out. They didn’t like how I looked. I was a demon to them.

My room smells like old sweat now. I hate it here. Everything seems grey. The light didn’t pierce my windows. The light was scared of me. I was scared about the light.

If only one person smiled at me. Gave me a hug. Said hello to me. Said something nice. Then everything would have been different.

Goodbye mom and dad. Wish you loved me more…

xxx

Chapter 1, The Beginning

16 Months Earlier

“Jason, come here. We need to talk about something.”

Her voice had that ‘I am so much better than you’ tone to it, and I knew something was wrong. A salty taste came to my mouth as I heard my feet being pulled by my body over the floor to where my mom stood. That is if I can call her mom.

“What is it?” the words escaped my mouth with haste, my eyes moved from the one corner of the room to the other.

“Grandmother died,” shock filled my body when I heard what she said; the rest of her sentence was blocked out, muffled sounds I couldn’t understand. I didn’t want to listen what she said, I didn’t want to go on. I fell down to my knees, and then sat on the ground. Tears filled my eyes while she still talked on and on. I began to sob, quietly inside the cover of my arms where I sat. This was a nightmare, not reality I kept on telling myself, not waking from the dream though.

“Get up, I’ll make some coffee,” there was a sadness in her voice, but the cool and calm tone she had made me wonder if she really cared.

I stood up while she walked into the kitchen, but I decided to run to my room. The walk to my bedroom had never felt so long, every footstep I took echoed through the passage, the bitter taste didn’t leave my mouth, and my eyes had a thin layer of water over it, blurring my vision. I didn’t want to go on; she was the only mom I had, the only person who cared, who saw the future with me as a bright new place full of potential. But I now only see black, a darkened world where I don’t want to live in. I feel alone.

The door burst open as I force the handle down; I almost hurt myself out of the now anger. I slammed the door shut behind me; the weight of my body took over and falling on the soft bed. This was my safe-haven from the world, my room. Posters of bands, pictures of almost nude girls and music albums littered the walls and the floor. I felt safe in the mess I created; no one could take this away from me.

The knock on the door was soft, and gentle.

“You want your coffee,” my mom asked in a soft, yet calm voice.

“Get away!”

“Please can I come in?”

“No!” I yelled for the second time on her. She ignored me, the door opened slowly and her face entered the room. In her hands were the two coffees she made; steam rose from it, and the aroma entered my room. It calmed me down from the crying, and it took away the bitter taste in my mouth. I managed a fake smile, not knowing why I did it; I still carried forward with it. She looked away from me while I tried to look at her; she put the coffee down on the table next to me, she walked to the window. I stretched my hand out to take it, but it was too hot.

“You know I loved her…”

“You didn’t,” I interrupted her while she stood straight and looked out of the window.

“Don’t do it. I am trying to talk to you. As I was saying, I loved her, but she wasn’t the best mother in the world. She was really hard on me and my sisters.”

“You aren’t the best mother either,” I whispered quietly.

Her face turned red, and a tear welled up in her right eye. She turned silently toward me, looked me in the eyes and then walked out of my room. She closed the door with a bang and stormed off. I started to cry again. I took the coffee and threw it hard against my door, the brown coffee dripped from the white door to the carpet. Blue shards of glass bounced of the door and lay on my floor.

Chapter 2, Day One

Her hand moved slowly up my leg while I lay on my back; my heart started to beat faster while every inch she moved toward me. Sliding across my leg was her pink panty, causing instant goose bumps all over my body. A broad smile stretched from the one corner of her mouth to the other side. She rested on top of me, and started to kiss me really softly on my lower lip; all of her body weight “that was little ” pushed down on me.

My eyes shot open to the dark room, the familiar ceiling on top of my view. My heart was beating really fast, my eyes bounced from the one side to the other; my mouth was died out, my tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. Pulsating feelings came from below the cover, and I knew what had happen the instant I remembered about the dream. My back arched when I stood up from the bed, life already putting its weight on my shoulder. How convenient it was to happen the morning of the first day of school. The bathroom light shone brightly in my eyes as I cleaned up my hands and face. The white shirt stuck to my back from the sweat, my heart still beating hard and fast against my chest; I felt weak with a strong heart.

“I’m going to get in the car, start it, and if you aren’t in it, I’m going without you,” the voice of my mom echoed through the house while she opened the front door. I put on my pants and my t shirt as fast as I could. The door slammed closed again.

“Wait mom! Wait!”

It was futile; she had already left.

Small drops of rain fell on my head while I walked the long way to school. Every step felt harder than the previous step, the rain pouring harder every step. A cold gust of wind blew through my t shirt, it sent down shivers down my lower back.

The door opened slowly, every little sound echoed down the long school hall; my footsteps sent waves of sounds down the fearsome alley; at least that’s how it felt. I took a halt in front of my classroom, small drops of water dripped on the floor, splish splash, splish splash.

“Why are you so late Jason?”

The tone of Miss. Stephanie sent shatters of glass throughout my ears, almost causing me to buckle under my own weight. My mouth dried up like the morning I woke up, the water dripping from my face almost moved in slow motion while I looked in her blue eyes. I turned my look away from her walking to my seat at the back of the class, ignoring her.

“You didn’t just turn your back on me young man!”

I kept on walking; I didn’t dare to look back at her. The noise of my school bag falling to the ground silenced her and the whole class. Everything stopped in their tracks, a fly near my head slowed down and I could hear the zoom. I turned around with eyes screeched nearly closed; staring her in the eyes, my eyes portraying a different story than when I walked in. I sat in the silence of the classroom. My day couldn’t end up worse

Chapter 3, The Day I Found Guilt

The day didn’t end any worse, but it didn’t get any better as well. I fell in front of the math class, and almost hit my head against the first table in the classroom. The teacher wasn’t in and like always when that happened, the class turned into a riot, papers flew from across the room, the chairs were pulled into groups where the girls sat, and the jocks played their crappy techno music. I, the guy who didn’t even fit in with the nerds, stood in front of the class, walked to my table, and came the invisible piece of wire the devil or some sadistic ghost put in my way. My left foot hit the right ankle, causing a collapsing of my limp body across the floor, tables were bumped out of my way by my hands, luckily, and my head hit the floor; not really hard though, but I had a really bad head ache afterwards. The class turned into a silent frenzy for a second; you could hear the paper fall to the ground, and the breathing of someone, and then, the laughing started. Once it started, they didn’t stop. I felt the blush on my face turn to two red tomatoes. I am not going to go into the detail anymore, it is now over and done.

The walk home was more fun than the past week combined with extra toppings of ice-cream and chocolate. In front of me walked two senior girls. The one had a really tight blue jean on and a cream top. But I could see her panty line through it, and a piece of the white lace sticking out at the back of her pants. The other girl, blond hair so long it touched her lower back, had a short blue skirt on. I prayed for a little wind, and what do you guess, there is a God out there. A sudden gust blew the skirt up a little bit. I didn’t see anything, but I saw enough to make my own conclusions. This extraordinary show continued until the next corner where they turned the opposite way. I saw enough to make my day, to get me ready for the afternoon. The front door was open like most of the time; my footsteps echoed loudly through the open house. I made my way to my room and locked it. My heart started to beat faster as I knew what was coming, my hands started to tremble a bit, and a good shiver went down my back. My stomach turned around when I switched on the computer. Like murphy wanted it, it took an age to turn on. I walked up and down my room to wear off some of the excitement. The windows tune played and I knew it was time. I sat on the soft chair, and started to block out all the sounds around me. The browser opened, the clicking of the mouse started, my hand moved, my fingers typed, and like magic they appeared. Two girls started dancing on the screen and taking their clothes off slowly. I sat in the position and pulled down my pants. Two nude figures danced on the screen while I did my thing. It felt like nothing then I was finished, all the excitement for two minutes of pleasure, even less. I sat on my bed, my whole body hot and sweat dripping down my face, the heavy burden started to fall over my shoulders. The sounds of the outer world returned slowly to my ears. My eyes burned slightly; I just stared in front of me.

“God, why did I just do this? I feel like this every time,” I said quietly to myself. I heard the footsteps coming closer to my room and then the knock. Startled I sat up straight.

“Open up this door, now!”

Chapter 4, An Entry From The Diary



23 November 2004


I am repulsed by my own behaviour, the things I do, say, and the people who I make friends with. Actually I don’t really have any friends; I just walk next to most of the children. I never talk to them. Last night I masturbated again, in my room with the girl big on my screen. I am not proud of it, I feel so dirty and guilty, even a day after I did it. I hate masturbating, but I cannot stop, I don’t know why.

Just before I shut down the computer, I went on the internet just once more, to kind of get something to do for the guilt feelings that eat me up. I don’t know how, but I ended up on a site named: “Killing for a living”. I read some of the articles, some of the stories, of the people involved in the operation. It scared me, but later on it progressed into something that I wanted to do. I scared myself so much that I put the computer off immediately, and went to bed.

“God, I am sorry, I am so sorry for being this person. Please help me.”

Chapter 5, A Day In Front Of Others

They were nude, all of them were nude. Even the girls, the young children and the old people, all nude. But you couldn’t see their sexual organs; it was like a nude colour suit they wore over their bodies. It was tight fit, covering every inch of their bodies. The way they walked looked uncomfortable, almost like constipated chickens running away from the butcher who tries to slaughter them. The world around them also looked different, almost technological. There was no grass, no tree, not a living thing except for the humans, in sight. I couldn’t walk, I just stood there while hundreds of faces walked past me; not even acknowledging me. I looked different from all of them, but they didn’t give a fly’s shit about the guy with the yellow shirt in the middle of the street. I tried to talk to someone, but all that came out was squeals, barely loud enough for them to hear. Their eyes. Black beads look straight into mine, emotionless. They walked faster than the normal human would walk down the street; almost seemed haste. Their faces portrayed a different story, they looked…

“Wake up!” the sharp pencil almost pierced my skin when Timothy tried to pinch me with it. “You need to do your speech thingy,” the moment he stopped, my heart started to beat faster in my chest, and my hands started to sweat. The class quieted down when I stood up from the chair in the back of the classroom; you could hear a needle fall to the ground. The silence didn’t hold very long when the first inappropriate comment was made. “Please don’t kill us all,” the voice hit my ears from the other side of the class. I don’t care what they call me, or whatever they say to me, but sometimes it still hurts, the feeling that you are unwanted in the play you need to feel at home because you spend half of your childhood here. But I didn’t feel comfortable. I hated it.
My mouth dried up, my head rumbled over all my words for the oral, but I couldn’t find the order they needed to be in, my hands moved up and down my sides and my heart pounded furiously. If things couldn’t get any worse, my chest closed from the mini panic or maybe stresses attack. “You may begin now, time waits for no man,” the teacher told me after a while I just stood there. The first words that escaped my mouth was unhearable, the classroom’s breathing was louder. I tried to imagine all of the people nude like people said, but it made things worse. I tried to imagine that no one was there, but that also lead to no other than failure.
“Uhm,” my first word and the last, or that was what I wished. The rest of the oral went from bad to worse. I ended up in the bathroom with the water running from my face. I hate school.