LETTERS TO HUNTER
Do you know what they say about things that could kill a human? They say it is diseases, bullets, heart attacks, cancer, aids, etc. However, what I believe most is that hope kills you in the most painful way. Yes, hope. Hope gives you expectance. Hope opens your eyes every morning, praying that day is your last in pain. Hope gives you the dreams. The dreams, where you imagined to be rescued. Like a damsel in the stress, each and every other day you hoped to be rescued. So it is hope that really kills you. You die waiting. Each and every day, you wait for not your knight in white shining armor to save you but the one you place hope on. Whether it be a friend, a lover or family, while hope survives and you wait, you practically die as none come each morning and night.
While I look back, dying is the easy part. By breaking my heart with each ticking second, it is still easy. The hard part however, is facing yourself in each second; each decision you, yourself have made, each turn your own life has taken, either you choose that or not. Either you make yourself believe the choice is taken away from you; deep down you know that you, yourself, played the game that way by trusting the wrong people or distrusting the "right" people. The hard part is facing your own image every time in mirror and knowing every little mistake you made and literally being unable to right them or amend any.
I genuinely am disgusted every time I look upon my face in this little mirror in my cell, which is were I belong lately. No, this is not a self pity vacation I took, neither is my childish ways I normally prefer. Sometime, in all between these shit, I guess I really grown up in a way. I, Sookie Stackhouse, am rotting in a prison cell. And in times, I believe this is truly what I deserve.
Yes, of course I helped to many people and supe in my little life time and for sure I did not commit the murder they accuse me of. And I deadly hope some of them come to my help, but unfortunately I deep down know.
Whole my life, I have been this crazy person, people in my town believe. Maybe just maybe they were not that wrong, but not only the reason they saw. Yes, this is a self-reckoning and my last wishes maybe, cause even if it has not affected me my whole life, I believe these iron bars are affecting me in a way. In a brutal way, I don't know maybe it is about the quantity here in this prison cell.
OK, the point is I am still not dead however in no position to help my self so I think the only way one can make amends will be through my will. I believe the amends I hope to achieve should be through helping someone in need. Of course, there are some people I want to reach lastly and show my gratitude and love however the one life I really can have a positive effect at this point is the one and only cousin I have like me. My dear Hunter, who really will need my help in his life, which at this point I will not be available in person. So the only thing comes to my mind to make amends is through writing to Hunter and analyze my life to his eyes and make him understand what he is and what world he really lives in.
AN:
These characters and all the plots belongs to lovely Charlaine Harris, i m just playing in the sand box..
*This is my first attempt to write a fanfic and this was an idea i have from reading the synopsis of dead ever after, i hope you enjoy. Also english is not my native language and this work is un-betad, so all the mistakes are mine
