Dear Darling,
I wrote you a love letter. It's the last one, I promise. But there's some things I think you ought to know.
I've had this feeling of sadness and nostalgia for, oh, quite some years now. As you know already, when our Liam died, I could usually find comfort in a bottle of red. But it was never enough. Not in the end. I still see his face, ya know? I'm sorry if that upsets ya. But he were the love of me life. And please, please don't think that I consider my feelings for you as any less significant, it's just, well, he was my first.
I fell in love with Liam Connor long before I even came into friendship with Paul. Nobody ever knew that though. I think he begrudged my being with Paul from the very beginning, and I've hated meself ever since for not doing the right thing; leaving Paul and making a go of things with Liam. But you have to understand, it was a lot more complicated than that.
The whole reason I moved in with Paul when I were 18 is because things... well, they just got out of 'and back at home. As I've told you before, me mum weren't the easiest of people to live with. We never 'ad much money, and all we did 'ave, me mum had earned by selling some dodgy stuff from the back of our Rob's pram. I don't blame 'er. At least, I don't blame 'er anymore. I can see now that she were just doing what she thought were best for us. Me dad 'ad buggered off long before. Not that he would 'ave been much help, mind. He'd always preferred to blow his benefit money on his beloved booze, rather than see his kids 'ave a decent meal for the day. I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all, 'ey?
I'm sorry I couldn't be a better mum to Simon. But believe me when I say, I really did try. I never did picture meself being a mother. Growing up with the family I did would be enough to put anyone off 'avin' children. And let's be honest 'ere, not even Mother flamin' Teresa could compare to the Saint that is Leanne Battersby. But, just know that I tried. In fact, I don't think I've ever worked so 'ard at somethin' before. And it was all for you, baby.
I have sacrificed so much for you, and there isn't another man on this planet who I would have done that for. I loved you so much, Peter Barlow. I don't know how you did it, love, but you got right under me skin. Ever since we bumped into each other at that AA meeting back in October, 2010. I've not been able to get you out of me 'ead since.
I'm not going to apologise for breaking up ya family. I'm sorry, but I just can't. If I apologised for that, then it would be like saying sorry for all the memories we've 'ad. And as much as it hurt me, 'ow the relationship ended, I will treasure those memories we shared until the day I die.
I will apologise for hurting your Si though. That poor little lad 'as been through so much, and I will always hate meself for putting 'im through even more pain. He doesn't deserve it. He's a good kid, Peter. And you're a great dad to that little boy, and don't you ever forget that.
I'm sorry I couldn't give you the baby girl you always wanted. It were such a flamin' shock when I discovered I were pregnant, I can tell ya that for n'out. And, ya know what love? I know I said I've never wanted kids and could never picture meself as a mother but, somethin' changed after I took that test. Okay, I were freaked out at first like, but when I really thought about it, when I pictured our little boy or little girl, how he or she would look, what kind of personality they'd 'ave... it did make me excited. And for the first time in my life I actually could see me being a mother. I wanted, with all my heart, to make it work. I wanted to be the mother I never 'ad, but always wanted. I guess it's true, what they say; you never realise how badly you want something, until it's taken away from you.
I'd never felt so broken down and defeated as I did when I lost our baby. I felt worthless. The one thing you really wanted, and I couldn't give it to you. I even messed that up in the end. I'm so sorry.
I thought I'd never be able to get through this. And I probably wouldn't 'ave, if it weren't for you. As always, you were my rock. My tower of strength. Years ago, I never would 'ave thought I'd come to depend so heavily on anyone, least of all a man, to help get me through.. to help me stay alive. And I guess, it weren't until I tried to take mine, that I truly realised. You saved me that day, Peter Barlow. In more ways than one. And ever since, you've been like my life support machine. Until now, of course.
When I came home to find you and... I'd never felt so humiliated, so worthless, so completely and utterly defeated. I hated you with every fibre of my being. And that was only because, despite what you 'ad done, I still loved you more than life itself. See, that were always my problem with you. That's why I were always so scared. I'd never loved anyone quite as much as I loved you. No one 'ad ever 'ad that much control over me before, and it scared me. And it scared our Chelle an' all. Because she knew. Of course she knew, she knows me better than I know meself sometimes. And I understand now why she were so scared. I can not live without you, Peter. I tried that before, and everyday I woke up, I died a little inside. It were killing me, not being able to hold you, kiss you, love you. But it was even worse seeing you with her. After everthing we had been through together. After everything I had been put through in order to get you. You know exactly what I'm talking about, or who, I should say. You were the one there to witness the sleepless nights from the never ending nightmares of what that... animal, put me through after all. I was raped because I loved you. Even then you were too much of a coward to do anythin' about it. I stood by you through everything, Peter. And all I wanted in return... all I wanted was you, baby. I just wanted to be with you. I wanted you to support me the same way I supported you. And I wanted you to love me, like I loved you. But I guess it were too much to ask for, weren't it?
I am sorry I couldn't give you what you wanted. I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy.
I hope you have a lovely life with Leanne, Simon and the new baby.
And congratulations,
of all the people who have tried to destroy me over the years, only you have managed to do it so successfully. I hope that gives you the sense of accomplishment you've been craving since god knows when.
I'm done, Peter. I can't do this anymore. Not without you.
Goodbye.
A tear drop splashed onto the paper as she placed her pen down. She stood up from the dressing table and walked out to the kitchen. Her skin was pale, but her eyes were red and puffy. She hadn't eaten for days, and the flat was littered with empty bottles of vodka and wine. As she reached her hand out for the sleeping pills placed out on the kitchen table, she caught sight of the scars on her wrist. She should have known she would sink this low eventually. She hadn't put a blade to her wrist since she was a young girl. Michelle had always been there to help her pick up the pieces back then. But now, she had no one. No one and nothing.
Michelle had gone. Her brother, Rob, had been sent back to prison again. And, naturally, he had blamed his sister for all of his wrong doings. It seemed completely nonsensical for him to constantly blame her for his own misdemeanors. But, not one for breaking a habit of a lifetime, Carla agreed with him.
It was as if she had this remarkable ability to place blame upon herself for pretty much anything that went wrong in the world. Maybe it was down to what she suffered as a child: The horrible ordeals she was forced to endure at the hands of one of her many "uncles". She had never confided in anyone about those incidents though. And now she never would.
But despite all of this, she remained strong, because she had Peter by her side. But then, just a few weeks after she had miscarried their unborn daughter, she entered their home to find Peter in their bed... with Leanne. She wanted to give him a second chance, unable to contemplate her life without him in it. But when Leanne announced she was pregnant with his child in front of the whole street, that was the final straw. The factory had gone under, due to Carla's neglect of the business when recovering from the loss of their baby. And so now, she really did have nothing else to fall back on. She had lost everything, and she didn't have any fight left in her to carry on. She was exhausted.
She sniffed back the tears, and pulled a bottle of vodka out from the fridge. After unscrewing the cap, she grabbed a big handful of the pills and went to sit on the sofa. She placed all the pills out on the table and proceeded to pick them up, one at a time:
"This one's for me dad, for being a complete waste of space..." She placed the tablet on her tongue and swigged back the vodka. Only content when she could feel it run down her throat, she picked up another.
"This one's for me mum, who weren't there when I most needed 'er..." She again swallowed the tablet before going on to dedicate all the other sleeping pills to the people who had hurt her or let her down in some way.
"This one's for Paul, and all his dirty little tarts..."
"This one's for Liam, for leaving me..."
"This one's for Tony, for murdering the man I loved..."
"This one's for Trev, who left when the going got tough..."
"This one's for Frank, for ruining me in ways I didn't even imagine were possible..."
"And this one's for Peter. My Peter. Because I were never good enough for ya."
It had only been a few minutes since she'd started taking the pills. She had taken over 60 by now and was starting to feel its affects. Her head was spinning and she felt really drowsy. Her mouth felt incredibly dry and she couldn't stop the quiver of her body as she felt the temperature drop to a freezing level. She fell back on the sofa, her chest rising and falling as she took in shallow breaths. A thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead as she lay back and slipped in and out of consciousness. Her breathing became much more shallow as she whispered hoarsely "Goodbye," her eyes fluttered close as she exhaled her last breath. Her body ceased it's trembling, as she lay limp on the sofa of her dark and silent flat. Alone.