Letters
I sat by my computer sipping a cup of tea while taking a look at a bunch of old letters on my table. I happened to be cleaning out my basement when I found them. I have to say I have been one bloody bastard of a father to my one of my children (more like adapted though). I've been such a horrible father to the child who did not rebel against me... (Well there was the rebellion of 1837 but that was more like a small tantrum than anything else.). I been so horrible to Matthew… and I still am. Because these century old letters that he wrote to his papawhile never get to its destination. Because I am too curious as to what information they hold about the years I had taken care of Matthew. Because through those years I now know I have neglected the lad and know nothing about him. Even now, most times I even forget who he is.
So here I am, in front of my computer ready to type these messages into the Google translator, because I bloody well don't know how to speak French much less read a letter written in French. I never did bother to learn the language because I bloody well didn't care or want to know what that stupid frog had to say. As I start to type I started to feel nervousness creep up my stomach because the letter I am holding had tears stains on it. Judging by the date in scripted on it it's the first letter the Mathew wrote.
As I typed I also realized that not only am I feeling nervous I… I also feel a slightly jealous as to why Matthew seemed to have written so many letters to bastard and never talked to me. Well never about personal things, he was just always there. Maybe that's the reason these letters never got sent. Maybe I was jealous of Francis or maybe it was the fact that I never cared enough about the person that had given these to me in the first place to sent and ended up forgetting about it and putting it off for another day mumbling to myself 'I'll send it next time'.
Now I remember that those were the only time he would smile at me happily and hopefully, handing me the letter with grace and elegance that he seemed to do with every move. Then Alfred would rush in and tell me what he would like me to bring home for him, while Matthew faded in the back as I focus on what Alfred is babbling about.
Oh God I feel like such a jerk right now…
Well here goes nothing.
Dear Papa Francis,
How have you been? I haven't been doing fine. I don't like it here. I don't understand most of the things they say, and when I try to speak Arthur gets mad. I just don't know that much English yet. He always yells at me when I speak French. Also when I refused to eat his cooking he got so mad he locked me in my room. His food makes my tummy ache. I want to tell him but I'm afraid he would get more angry at me! Also when Alfred and I would play he said his hero and I'm the bad guy and he would always beat me up and when I fight back he would cry and tell me bad guys are suppose to be beat up then he would cry some more and run to Arthur then he would get mad at me and lock me up my room again! Please Papa take me back I promise I'll be super good so please come back.
Yours truly,
Matthew.
Dear Papa Francis,
How have you been? I haven't been doing fine. It gets really scary here at night. One night when Arthur locked me up again, it was raining and there were scary booming sounds. I wanted to call out to Arthur but I was more scared of him than the booming sound. I'm really hungry to. I don't know how Alfred could eat his cooking. I always get tummy aches but he seems to be fine. Papa I really miss you and your cooking. Please Papa I really do promise I would be good so please take me back.
Yours truly,
Matthew
Dear Papa,
When I woke up the other morning nobody was at home. I was all alone. I was also hungry. So I cooked some food. I'm really thankful you taught me how! They didn't come back till late. I cooked dinner so that when Arthur gets home he will finally smile at me! I have also been learning English from the books I borrow from Alfred! I don't get locked in my room that often anymore! Something strange happened though; when Arthur and Alfred came back they told me to get out. They ask who I was and called me a thief he was also hitting with a stick demanding I get out. I told them I was Matthew, Alfred seemed to remember and told him who I was. Then Arthur apologized but when he saw the food on the table he ask me where I bought it from. When I told him I cooked it he got so mad at me! He told me I shouldn't play around the kitchen, that it wasn't a place for kids to around in then he threw all the food away. He hit me then yelled at me and locked me in my room again! He told me I won't and food for until tomorrow evening because I wasted food. It was good that I ate ahead of time. I don't know what was wrong with the food I cooked I thought they taste good. I only wanted Arthur to be happy but instead he got mad. I don't know what to do anymore.
Yours truly,
Matthew
I released a shaky breath, trying to get rid of the nasty feeling building up at the pit of my stomach and wondered I this wasn't such a great idea after all.