Hello Jason.
You've been gone almost a year now. A whole year. It feels so strange to say that. It feels strange to be stood here right now staring at your gravestone. You were so young. I could never have imagined something like this would happen to you.
This isn't fair. None of this is fair. We should be sat together at the Chock'Lit Shoppe right now, sharing a strawberry milkshake. Strawberry milkshake was always your favorite, wasn't it Jason? And it makes me so sad to think you'll never be able to taste one again. Do you remember that last week in June? It was the last week we ever spent together. We went to the Chock'Lit Shoppe every night that week and shared the same milkshake. We laughed and joked, made fun of all the losers sat around us. But there was something different about you those last few days. You were nervous, on edge. I asked you what was wrong but you wouldn't say a thing. I wish I'd reached out to you, hadn't shook it off because I was stressed out about some other trivial bullshit that was so irrelevant I can't imagine for the life of me what it was right now.
I'm sorry to tell you this but half the town still thinks you're a monster for what you did to Polly. But fuck Polly. She was the real monster. She's the reason you're laying six feet beneath me right now. Even if you really did drive that girl insane, it's no excuse for what her sick, twisted family did to you. The truth is, they were jealous of us before you even walked into that girl's life. And why wouldn't they be jealous of you? You had it all.
You always had to be the best at everything. Your competitive streak even outshone mine. Remember when we were just eight years old and Mom and Dad bought us those go-karts? We raced around the grounds all day, and not once did I stand a chance of overtaking you. Do you remember that? You ran me off the track three times that day.
It pains me to think that for once, you lost. Sometimes I even find myself feeling angry about this fact. Why couldn't you have fought harder for your life? Why couldn't you have run faster? Why did you give in and let them close enough to hurt you? You were supposed to come back.
I hope you didn't feel too much pain in your last moments, Jason. I hope you weren't afraid. I like to think you didn't even realise it was coming. But I doubt that very much. I know you suffered and the autopsy report is a grim reminder that you most definitely did. You were tortured. Why would they have wanted to do that to you? What purpose did it serve? I suppose that's a secret only you and the Cooper family will ever know.
I hope you're not too lonely down there. Or up there. Wherever you are. Is there such a thing as heaven, Jason? And if there is, are you there? You weren't that bad, were you? And if there is such a thing as heaven and you are there, am I ever going to see you again? You were always the kinder twin. You cared about me. You loved me. Did I ever show you how much I truly loved you? I heard you crying on the night of the July 3rd. You were scared, I know you were. You didn't want to leave me behind. But I didn't do a thing to stop you, did I? Maybe if I had just opened the door that night, told you everything would be OK, that I'd come with you and we'd run away together, maybe then you'd still be here. Perhaps I could have protected you from them, as you'd protected me all those years.
The idea of never seeing your sweet face in the flesh ever again pains me so much I can barely stand to look at a picture of you these days. Seeing Archie parade around the football pitch in your sweater is like a dagger to the heart. That's your goddamn number, not his. And watching life at Riverdale go on, re-adjust and heal as if you were never there in the first place? It's too much. The months go by and you are fading further and further into a distant memory. You're no longer the topic of lunchtime gossip, the flower memorial outside your locker no longer receives flowers, and all those assholes you called friends seem to have moved on with no trouble at all. Why doesn't anyone care anymore? Am I the only one who still feels an emptiness inside since you left?
It's getting late. I have to go. But don't worry, I'll be back soon. I think I'll go to the Chock'Lit Shoppe tonight after all. Maybe for a moment I can remember the good times we had instead of obsessing over your horrific demise. I'm going to treat myself to something sweet. You guessed it, strawberry milkshake.
Goodnight Jason, wherever you are.