Roxy,

Hello. How have you been? Honestly, I don't think that this letter will reach you. I have written you 364 letters, each a day. I would be surprised if you would actually get this one. I heard you were discharged from rehab. For the final time, I hope. I pray you'll be sober for the rest of your life. But I know that that's not going to be true.

You can't resist the power of a martini, Roxy.

Your daughter…looks up to you, Roxy. As Dave does to me. Don't you ever make her think that nobody loves her. I know that she wasn't planned. I know that you weren't ready to be a mother. I wasn't ready to be a father…

Or an older brother…

Or whatever the hell I am.

I remember my brother. I don't remember him when he wasn't drunk. I do remember him giving me food, handing me a metal spoon and finger food inappropriate for my infantile age. I remember him yelling at me when I cried, telling me to shut up. "World isn't a box of fucking rainbows," he used to scream at me.

"There's more to scream about than an accidental cut on your hand." He used to say as he furiously wiped the blood off my velvety, child hand. "You should have known better to touch my fucking glasses."

I remember him putting me to bed, lying me down in my bassinette that he bought for five bucks at a yard sale and turning off the lights. I would cry. I would scream. I hated the dark. It was so black. There were so many shapes that took forms of monsters.

I would scream and holler until someone from next door heard. Even when the police was called on my brother, he would yell at me to shut up. He would carry me around on his shoulder and pretend that I was just having a bad night.

I always had a bad night.

When I was a year old and dared to look him straight in the eye, he couldn't stand the color of my eyes. He absolutely hated it. He gave me his pointed glasses. They were sharp. I shouldn't have worn them. I got used to the dark.

I'm telling you now that Dave will never experience what my brother put me through. I will teach him the ways of life, yes, because the world isn't a box of fucking rainbows. I will teach him the good of life, though, teach him to fend for himself.

I'll probably teach him keyboard

Or how to work my turntables

Even though… Even though…

Even though life isn't a box of fucking rainbows.

I will give him a baby spoon and I will feed him that gross pureed baby food that my brother never gave me. I will make sure he doesn't grow up with stomach problems that causes him to hardly keep his food down.

I will keep every single sharp object away from him. I won't yell at him when he cuts himself or bleeds for the first time. I will give him glasses because I know that he loves mine. But they won't be pointed. They will be round.

And he will be able to take them off if he wants. I won't yell at him when he takes them off.

I will stand beside his bassinette. I will keep the lights on if he cries. I will stroke his cheek when tears roll down his skin. I will stay up with him in a rocking chair, waiting for him slowly fall asleep.

My point is Roxy that I'm going to be a good big brother

And I'm saying that you should too.

Because I don't want your daughter to end up like I did. Or like you did. You have to give your daughter opportunities that you didn't have before.

Because I love you.

And I don't want to see you fall.

Your daughter is the one person in your life that's going to carry on your image and likeness. Maybe she'll like drinks as much as you do. Maybe she'll have the same hair style as you as she grows older. When you're gone, she'll be the one crying over you.

And if you're gone before I am, you know that I'll be right behind her, crying with her too.

But I hope that's not going to happen. I hope we'll live to see each other again. Grow old, watch each other slowly fade away. I don't know…what the future might hold.

But all I want you to know is that I will never forget you. From the day we met to the day that I will meet Death in the face, I will never forget you.

I will make sure that Dave won't let me forget.

Ever.

Speaking of, he's crying again. He doesn't feel very well. He's not eating so good. I ought to give him a good pap on the back. Hopefully that will make him calm down. That always calmed you down when you were upset.

I'm always here, Roxy.

Don't you ever forget that.

-Dirk Strider