The Last Letter Chapters 6-11

Chapter 6, The Secret

I poured the first glass only half full. Not to sound all philosophical, but my glass is almost empty. The smell of the whiskey hit my nose lost like a fist of one of the bullies. It didn’t hurt but stung, and other than the fact that the punches hurt, this smell was nice. With a sting the alcohol moved down my throat with an ease. I closed my eyes tightly shut and tried to forget about the day. But I couldn’t, the images flashed through my mind like an old film playing on an empty screen. It was the first time in two and a half years I thought about that day; the first day I thought about what I really have done. Or that was with the therapist.
“Why did you like her,” her voice said cold; I still hear the voice linger in my thoughts late at night. “She’s funny and beautiful, she smiles a lot, and she likes to talk to me,” I said in a calm voice with the sun setting in the back window where I looked, I remember. “So why did you do it, was she afraid, didn’t she want to go all the way?” Hesitation came forth in her voice for a second but she let go of it after the first couple of seconds. “I, I don’t know, but I liked it,” my face lit up as I looked over to where she sat with the notepad on her lap, taking notes why I, who am Mark, had raped a sixteen year old white girl.

Chapter 7, Something From The Past

“Hi Jason, thank you for coming in today,” she said with a wide smile stretched across her face, I couldn’t distinguish if it was meant or fake like people normally do with me if they don’t want me to feel bad. The seat where I always sat was in the same place than the previous week, except the cushion was missing.

“Where’s the cushion,” I asked in a voice just above a whisper. My eyes jerked from corner to corner in the room, seeking something I don’t know, but I just didn’t want to look in her eyes.

“I am so glad you could make it, I know how hard it is for you,” my eyes met hers for a split second; the same feeling of shame flushing my insides. “My daughter took it home; she likes it for some reason.”

“I like it too,” my voice was again just a soft hoarse whisper. Her eyes were glowing with joy as she looked over to me. I couldn’t help but make a small attempt to smile back.

“Let’s talk a little bit about school, how has it been going for you there? Have the boys stopped teasing you,” she asked the moment I sat on the chair. I liked the chair; it was soft and comfortable, unlike the chairs at school where we have to remain seated of seven hours.

“It’s better; they left me alone after the incident,” I looked down at the ground, mumbling the sentence from the guilt I started to feel again. I sat up straight again and this time looked her in the eyes for a long period of time. A tear drop started to form in my eye socket; and rolled down my face. It fell on my black jean, almost exploding into smaller drops of tears. “Let’s just cut the bullshit, when will this get better,” I asked with a louder voice this time. The smile on her face faded away and turned into a neutral face.

“It takes time,”

“I didn’t mean to do it, I didn’t want to do it, she just,” I started to cry from the guilt, the sorrow, the self-pity.

“You have to come forth with what you done, you have to stand up for the consequences,” the tone in her voice changed to a more demanding voice. I looked into her eyes and saw the flames in her eyes of rage, of hate. She stood up and opened the door, and shouted loudly, “Police he is in here!”

The alarm clock flashed 6am; a loud buzzing noise that irritated me. I sat up straight and felt sweat beads rolling down my back. With haste I looked at my wrists and held them with my hands. No scratch marks, it was only a dream I convinced myself at the end. The moon still shone outside, darkness covering the city, people still fast asleep while I am awake. I looked down the road out of my window and saw two old people running down the hill. I had the urge to hit the window and run down to them and tell them what I did, but I lacked the confidence, the guts a real man had. At the end I walked to the closet to put on my school clothes like a normal boy, like a normal kid.

What I feared for months happened; I walked into her on the way to school. Amy had long blonde hair hanging down the back of her body, blue piercing eyes that looked straight through you. She saw me coming and stopped. Hate was in her eyes like the girl’s in my dream.

The pain spread across my face as her hand slapped my face. I deserved more than that, I deserved death. “I am sorry,” I mumbled out on the street when two birds flew over my head. “I know you hate me,”

“You did it when I said don’t do it, you did it anyways,” tears started to roll down her face while she looked me in the eyes. I looked away from her gaze as the guilt built up to a point I couldn’t take it anymore. “I hate you.”

Chapter 8, The Day I Sat Behind Her

I sat at the back of the classroom like I always did, and always will do until the last day that I sit in this rotten place some people dare to call home. My senses were enhanced by some freak nature like always this early in the morning. Sandra wore her trademark tight clothes, and talking to Richard, the rich family with everything he desires. Sometimes I envy them, for the stuff they have not for the person he is, but then again I don’t care about the things they have. I really just want to be loved like some people get for free; I want to be able to talk to people without being judged for what I wear. I want to be normal.
Like the devil would have wanted it and God with His sense of humour, Amy walked into the classroom that was about to erupt from the paper wars the boys held. She looked me in the eyes the moment she walked down the aisle where I sat; she just kept walking until she sat right in front of me. God was funny today, and the devil surely laughed his ass off in hell. Her hair hung down the back of the small chair she sat on with pride in her body. The teacher strolled in the classroom with the world on his shoulders, but he couldn’t care more.
“Good morning class, keep quiet please,” he tried to say when the group of girls in the left corner broke out in their daily gossip and giggling. With a sigh of utter tiredness, and a feeling of relentless, he fell back into his chair with desperation for silence. No one really cared at all.
“I still hate you,” she said in a low voice when I passed her on the way to my next class. She said it with a half-smile rather than the hate the morning.
“Wait, what, you’re not mad?”
“I’m still mad, but I thought it over, and we had something rather special than something useless like my previous, well, dates.”
“But what I did, it was almost like rape, I thought I raped you. I had nightmares over where I sat with counsellors talking about how I would go to jail.”
“Meet me after school behind the new shopping centre, where we first met.”
She walked away with haste to the next classroom, deserting me to my own company. The whole school day I couldn’t sit still, I didn’t listen to a single word the teachers said in their monotonous voices. I saw her face flash in front of me the every second or so.
“Justin, come stand here in front and tell the class what you understand in the term of ‘reduction formulas’.” I froze from my toes up to my nose. God help me.

Chapter 9, Her Beautiful Face Smiles When I Die

I have never walked so fast in my life; my heart gave so many beats that I couldn’t count any of them anymore. I ran up the stairs into my room, shut the door and undressed the quickest I have ever done, and took a Russian shower; rush in rush out. I put on my lucky jockey and the t shirt I wore when I asked Amy out on our first official date. I began to feel how my life is about to jump in to 6th gear and be the ride of my life. The girl I gave my heart to, the girl I loved, gave me a second chance, to make it up to her. Ways to talk to her, things to say, how to say them in the first place ran through my head while I put on my pants half way down the stairs, out to the front door. The sun shone much brighter than I anticipated and actually hurt my eyes for a second and a half.
“Today you don’t, you cannot make a mistake, everything must be perfect,” I said in a confident voice walking down the street leading to the designated destination chosen by Amy. I walked past hundreds of people; it felt like that, without looking anyone in the face; that was unusual for me because I have a tendency to look people in the face a lot.
Time flew past me, like it always does, and I was at the place she said she will be. But there was no Amy, no sign of life in any matter. No one was present in the street, and everything was too quiet. I turned around to look if someone was coming from the other side of the road, but no one.
It was out of nowhere when I heard the breathing, loud puffs from someone with clearly allergy problems. I turned around to see who this person was that breathed down my neck…
I fell to the ground with utter pain in my stomach from the fist that hit me in the ribs and then in the stomach. There wasn’t just one, but three tall and really strong guys. One had a bat in his hand, anger over his face, and rage burning like an open flame in a windy summer. He walked over to me and looked me in the eyes. “You leave Amy alone, or next time you are dead, you hear me boy,” the bat connected with my lower back and pain shot through my body. My hands moved toward the area he hit with the bat while I scream from the pain. My body lied numb except for my hands that tried to cover the pain. He hit again and again over my hands. I heard soft crack noises beneath the loud bang! of the bat hitting me. Tears filled my eyes from the pain, icy chills went down my now numb spine and my hands throbbed with utter pain. I couldn’t move over to pick up my cell phone that fell when they hit me, my hands was too sore for me to wedge myself off the ground.
I slowly cried over and over realising she played me like an idiot, it was nothing more than a trick to get me back over what I did. She knew she couldn’t prove that I did it to her, but this is the way she got back at me. It was fair. “God, I am sorry to call out to you again, I know I have been doing it way too much the last couple of days, but help me, I am in pain.”
Dusk turned into night and the cold air only worsened the pain. I moved from the middle of the ally to the wall of a building. I managed to pick up the phone and open the cover. With the skew finger I held the 3rd key in. The flashing ‘mom’ sign brought a little comfort to me. She picked up after the fourth ring, “What do you want, where are you?”

Chapter 10, The Wind

My fingers shook profoundly not from the stress I felt rushing through my body, but from the immense pain and the icy night wind brushing the soft edges of my face. Dried cracks that formed on my lips broke open with each new wind blasting past me; I could taste the irony blood taste in my mouth. Tears rolled down my face from the wind that made its way through my body and face. In the distant dark alley I heard voices, familiar ones and ones I didn’t know. It made me feel ‘safe’ in a way even though my mother has never gave me any protection; except on my 16th birthday she gave me a pack of condoms. It made me laugh for a second and I forgot about all the pain. My eyes closed.
“What the hell happened to you, shit. You are costing me so much money,” I recognised the voice as my mothers, but there were so many other beeping noises. A needle was stuck in my arm and my whole body was in cast. Or that was how it felt to me. Both my hands were covered to my elbow, and around my stomach was bandage so thick that felt almost like a sweater but I had nothing on. My eyes widened when I realised where I was.
“Where am I, how did I get here,” I said in a shaky voice looking around the room with haste. The curtains were open revealing the brilliantly lit up summer’s day in the middle of winter.
“We found you half dead in that alley. Who did this to you?”
“Who did what?” I was still looking around the room hoping to calm down, but it was futile. The heart monitor machine’s beeping climbed the more I looked around but I didn’t stop.
“Don’t play stupid with me, do you see idiot written on my head,” she hit her forehead with her open palm creating a clapping sound that echoed through the vast room. Two or three heads jerked to my bed; at least they didn’t stare for too long. “Who did this to you, stop trying to lie.”
“I… I… Messed up… with the wrong people.”
“Don’t tell me that you started doing drugs,”
“No mom, no! Please leave alone now, my head hurts,” she walked slowly out the door, and never returned that day or night. I was all alone.

Chapter 11, The Cold Night Of Hate

Like fate wanted it, I was the bed directly beside the window, the only window in the room with 8 beds. The worst part is that it was open, not wide but just-just open; big enough for the devil’s wind to intrude the safety of my warm duvet. No matter how I tried to lay, the wind, the small breeze entered from some mysterious place and disrupting my sleep. It was pitch-black except for the moon’s dim light, and all the nurses where at home or on standby at the ICU.
My wrist watch flashed 01:04. Shit. I turned around, my back facing the cold window this time. It felt better.
02:35. I slept for about an hour and a half. Two beds from mine is an old guy, probably 76 years old. He decided it is time to snore now, and wonderful fate again with its games, I was the only one woken up. A dream is such a wonderful place when you want to be there, rather than in a hospital bed that smells of vomit. I felt the heaviness return to my eyelids as they became too heavy to keep open, and alas, they fell close.
“Jason, Jason wake up!” a hand shook mine hard that I woke up from the dream of ponies and butterflies and pink fairies. My eyes didn’t want to focus in the bright morning sun for a while, but got used to it by the time I realised the person who woke me up was a small girl. Not young, just small. When she turned around ready to lead me out the room, I saw the length of her hair. It was pitch black and it hung on her lower back, just above her pants. Her skin was a pale white and her eyes dark brown.
“Where to are we going,” I asked in a quiet but low voice still filled with the sleep of 5 minutes ago. She took my hand when I climbed out of the bed. “The needle, wait,” I pulled it abruptly out of my arm with a few sprinkles of blood escaping with the sharp needle. The pain shot through my arm and a small shriek left my mouth.
Her hand was cold, rather icy and small. Her footsteps were silent, almost as if they weren’t there for some reason. I walked behind her, really close. “Where are we…”
“Shhht,” she made the sound with her finger over her lips. Her face was calm, but her eyes showed a different story; disturbance, fear.
We stopped by the entry of the building; there was no one at the receptionist’s table, only the phone. The receiver was on the ground. Something wasn’t right. I bent down to pick it up when I heard the scream.