Disclaimer: First story on this website and its an old one, written back in 2003 or so. reviews and crits are wanted and appreciated. I dont own the characters of Gundam Wing, nor the song: "The Saddest Song" By the Ataris. Enjoy!
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He found them the attic. An unassuming stack of letters bound together with cord and placed in the far corner of a large cardboard box. They weren't where he expected them to be..among his other childhood paraphernalia...his memories. Apparently his mother had wanted to keep him from them even after she was gone.
They had buried her this morning and he had been going through her things ever since the funeral was had ended. Immersing himself in memories of the life the two of them had shared in the large state house.
She had been a single mother from the beginning, but she had tried her best to give him the rounded kind of life that other boys had. He had been in sports and on the debate and speech teams, he had run for class president and graduated both highschool and college with honors. She had given him a good start and a loving family life, even though It was only the two of them. They had gotten by without ...him.
Him.
He had never known his father..and the only connection he ever had to the man who gave him his dark blue eyes and chocolate colored hair that girls seemed to like so much, were these age stained letters he now held in his hands. They had started arriving when he was just born, and continued until he was 11..then they abruptly stopped. When he'd asked his mother why, she just shook her head and stared off into space. Later, He heard her crying in her bedroom. That had scared him. His mother was usually so confident and strong..and he had never seen her cry.
Ever.
He had gotten angry at his father then and ripped the letters he had received in half and scattered them around his room. How could he still have the power to make his mother cry, and yet have no real part in their lives? It wasn't fair. It was then that he decided to forget that he even had a father. It was better than hurting ..and waiting and wondering.
She must have found them. Must have put them all back together and placed them in here.
He took a deep breath and pulled one randomly from the stack and opened it. The letter was still torn, but both halves were placed neatly inside. He read the first half, grazing over the neatly scrawled hand writing.
Only two more days, until your birthday.
Yesterday was mine
You'll be turning five...
He remembered when his mother read him this letter. She always read them with a smile on her face..as if everything in the world was okay..including him not being around. Looking back on it, he didn't understand how she could seem so happy when he had abandoned her with him..to make it alone.
He read on.
I know what it's like, growing up without your father in your life
So I pretend, I'm doing all I can
And I hope someday you'll find it in your heart
To understand why I'm not around
And forgive me for not being in your life
He glared at the paper and felt like ripping it into shreds all over again. Instead he dropped it to the ground, and looked around himself. He had gone through every other box up here. This one was the last. Things sat neatly packed and labeled for either storage , shipment to his house or charity. He had been up here for hours...it was small wonder his wife hadn't come looking for him, wondering what had become of him. His eyes wandered back to the envelope at his feet, and he picked it up again. Memories as faded as the writing on the envelope came flooding back to him. All of the old feelings that he had so disliked when he thought about his father...He wanted to put an end to it. Once and for all.
He stood, grabbed the letters and left the attic.
I remember waiting
For you to come
Remember waiting
For you to call
Remember waiting there to find nothing at all
The flight to the colony was a long one. 15 hours, no stops in between.
maybe someday
you really get to know me
not just the letters read to you
I pray I get the chance
To make it up to you
We got a lot of catching up to do
Once there it was only a matter of finding the right street...the right people to talk to...He was surprised to find that the colony the letters lead him to was a military base...and even more surprised when almost everyone knew the man he was asking about. An old mechanic was nice enough to drive him to where he needed to go...
So I pretend, I'm doing all I canAnd hope someday you'll find it in your heart
To understand
Why I'm not around
And forgive me for not being in your life
And so he stood in the large grassy field the simulated sun shining warm on his shoulders as he looked down at his fathers headstone. It didn't have an epitaph...Just a name. Heero Yuy. And a date: A.C 217. The year he turned 11
And a Soldiers Honor Cross
...and now he knew..why his father had stopped writing.
Why his mother was crying..
I remember waiting
For you to come
Remember waiting
For you to call
Remember waiting there to find nothing at all
He understood. And though he still couldn't completely forgive his father , he thought that perhaps understanding was enough for the moment. Kneeling, he carefully ran his hands over the smooth stone Honor Cross. The wind brushed against his face again..and he sighed. Closing his eyes, seeing the words of the letters again in his mind.
Forgive me
I'm so sorry
I will make it up to you...
"Goodbye, Father."