Author's Notes: I recently started reading a book called Strange Fits of Passion, about a woman who is abused by her husband and she ends up murdering him. I thought abuse might be an interesting topic to tackle. Yep. I jumped on the cliche bandwagon. So here it is. My own little take on it. I hope I do it justice.
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My Dearest Will,
I was told once that there is no such thing as truth. Because there are so many different perspectives and interpretations that 'real truth' becomes lost in translation.
I believe I've told you the truth, as clearly as I remember it. There are details which have been forgotten with age or glossed over to preserve your memories. But what you are about to read, is everything that I can clearly remember in the order that I remembered it to occur.
Please understand, sweetheart, that I never once wanted you to hate him. Your father is nothing more than a man who once thought himself infallible. And he managed to snare a fragile woman with the words she wanted...needed to hear.
I tell you this story now, so that perhaps you can understand. Or at the very least know both sides, as I am certain your father has told you his version of events.
I love you. And I want you to know that nothing, nothing will ever change that.
Please read on and be sure you have read it all before you cast judgment on my decision.
With all my love,
Helga
The letter was laid to rest next to a notebook scribbled full in ink. The pages billowed and the corners were curled. There were signatures and notes scribbled in the margins. He took a deep breath, opening the cover slowly and casting his eyes over the first page before finally reading each word carefully.