Chapter Thirty-Nine: Piece of Mind
What do you do when your life is an alibi? Which of your paths do you choose? And what do you do when your world is a fucking lie? Which of your lives stands to lose? I hold on to everything that hurts me, and really, what else can I do? Everything…Since coming back. Since leaving in the first place. Since the summer. Since even before then. I held onto it and it hurts me again.
But who am I to complain? I deserved everything that came to me. That's what I get for losing it all those months ago. The crime of all crimes, the ultimate sin. I do regret what I've done, but what does it matter by now? What happened, happened. And I can't fix it.
He said it to me himself. I don't forgive you. I tell him it's fair, but it doesn't really help me any. As long as he's over it, I guess. I want Bradley to live the best life he can despite what I did to him. He didn't deserve any of what happened. As for me, well, what prospects to I have now? I'm a criminal, a convict. A monster. A natural-born killer. Pointed claws. Knife-like teeth. A thirst for blood from birth.
I didn't ask to be born this way. Then again, who asks to be born at all? I always tried to tell myself that things would clear up. The deeper the trench, the higher the peak. The darkest nights make the brightest stars. The strongest storms show the strongest roots. That's life, that's the hand you were dealt.
Well, no more. I can't see the next peak from the darkness way down here. Even within it, I see no stars. Not even the moon. Just black. And should the wind blow past me one more time, I fear my roots would fail me. No one to hear me crash to the ground. I stare to the cards in my hand. I don't see a way to play them. I fold.
I find comfort in seeing the blood leave me. Whether it be from self inflicted wounds on my arms or from others given to me. It gives me a strange comfort, that for that moment, everything's fine. Maybe that's just the blood loss, but the point still stands. It's the toxicity within me leaving my body, but no matter how much I do it, it always just gets replaced.
I used to be thankful that I made it to another day. I'd spend time trying to sleep to keep the feelings away, because that was the only time I felt alright. But recently, the thoughts have made their way to my dreams. It's getting to be too much. I know I don't have much longer. I don't know when the end will come, but I do know it's soon.
At this point, I hoped that after every time I'd hurt myself, I'd just die a short time afterwards. So unsuspecting that even I wouldn't have seen it coming. A fear resided within me for so long that I'd never be able to do it, but that's gone too. I'd lie to myself all the time, saying that I don't think about death. It consumes me. I'm not afraid anymore.
The truth is: I'm fucked up. No sense in ignoring it. I couldn't keep it together and attacked Bradley. I tore the one family in which I was happy apart with no hope of ever fixing it, or even making something new to replace it. The relationships with those I hold dear are fractured and broken. I'm a half and half hybrid that just creates double the problems, for both myself and others. Nature says I shouldn't even be here. Well, who am I to leave that request unfulfilled?
There isn't a whole lot of good around here, but I was able to see a few stars before all light faded around me. The first of which being my true biological father, the one Mom tried to keep me from for all these years.
I don't like that I'm a whole made of two different halves. Though, the one I most resemble. The timber wolf. Shen. Dad. I am thankful that I got to meet you in my lifetime. There was a piece within me that felt like it was missing for so long, and after coming to terms with what I was, you filled the gap perfectly. It's a shame because of the circumstances under which we met. I'm sure we could have gotten along much better, and maybe even had a life together.
To Dad: Please know that I didn't know you long enough for any of this to be your fault. I know it hurts to have finally had me after all those years, just to have it torn from you, but you have to understand, right? You've hurt before. You're just so much stronger than I am.
Mom, well, I don't know if you were expecting this or not. Either way, I'm sure you're devastated. A sick part of me wants to gloat about it… 'look at what you've gone and done now.' I promise I won't beyond that. Look. I'm sorry for taking your happiness away, that which you worked so hard to earn. I was careless. I couldn't control my emotions. Maybe with me gone it'll grant him the serenity to consider seeing you again.
To Mom: This is not your fault, and I'm forever regretful of how what I've done has affected you. You spent your entire life lying to me about who and what I was, and I can never forgive you for that. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. You're my mom. It's a given. Even with how much I shout, and how much I argue, and despite the fact I stormed out on you. I did it all because I wanted to keep us. Smile when you think of me. My body's gone. That's all.
I made a few friends during my exile, and of them all, two stand out to me. Beacons of light that faded gradually as I returned inside myself, pushing them away until there was nothing left of either of them.
To Legosi: You followed me home because you knew of the dark path I was embarking on. You wanted to make sure that I was alright, but I pushed you away. I'm sure, had I been more confident in you, I would have told you about all of this. Finding out after the fact probably doesn't feel too nice, but I just want you to know that even in my stubbornness, I appreciated every second you took to take care of me. Yes, even when I was hungover that one day.
To Pina: There was something about you since the day I first saw you, Corny right? But no, really. Something about you that made everything just disappear for awhile. I shared genuine smiles and laughter with you. I can only say this because I realized in my time away, that it wasn't just instinct telling me to eat you. I do love you. So much. But I can't be here to tell you. In wake of this, please move on from me. I don't want you to be hung up on this. You were not involved. It wouldn't be fair.
To Witt: I hope you don't get in shit for this. You were a good man, and I felt better having you listen to my insane ramblings. Even the more serious topics that I thought you'd involve the authorities over. Though, I will say this. The medication never felt to be working. I don't know if it's because you didn't know I was a hybrid, or if there's another condition that was never picked up on. That's just my two cents.
To Bradley: I hope you can live with the weight lifted from you. You didn't deserve it. Even with how annoying you were. I'm glad I was able to help you change, and that you were able to somewhat move past it. But I just can't. Just like you can't forgive me. I can't either. I hope you have a better life in Osaka with your mom.
To Chris: As insignificant as you were throughout the years I'd known you, I couldn't imagine that you'd try and kill me at the end of it all. If this is what you meant by 'I'll make you pay for the scars you've made,' then I hope it's payment enough. Maybe now you can get the help you need knowing the one who'd caused you so much pain is gone.
To Dana: Old friend. This is bittersweet. How long has it been, fifteen years? Didn't think it'd come to this, huh. I always thought you'd drink yourself to death before I had the chance to die. Seriously. Get help for that drinking of yours. I understand things are tough for you too, but that's no way to deal with it. Huh, ain't I a hypocrite.
Speaking of drinking, there's one thing I'd like to get off my chest, Dana: Saturday night. You know the one. What was that? It makes me feel gross that you did that to me. Was that your plan all along? I guess it doesn't matter now. I was upset at first, but now I realize it's just as much my own fault as it was yours. We were both drunk. I didn't say no. The whole thing shouldn't have even happened, but it did. I wanted to talk it out with you, but you never answered.
My hand's getting tired. Maybe it's the blood loss? Or maybe it's because I haven't written this much since I left school. Either way, I'm just gonna wrap it up here. I was angry, depressed, and bitter when I started writing, but now that my thoughts are on paper? I think I got it out of my system.
That doesn't change the fact that every word on this page is true. I've accepted the fact that one of these days, I will take my own life. The method and location? I don't know. Only God knows that one. I wonder what He'll think when I see Him up there. I know suicide is a sin, but what if it was part of His plan? Setting me up for failure, just as the act of opening my eyes and taking my first breath was. Well, not too far off now from my last for both.
Dated December 23rd, 2018. I'll come back and revise and rewrite this should I make it six more months. Not very formal, or well put together for letter of this nature, I know, but it's just my stream of consciousness as I feel myself fading away. Probably from the amount of blood covering the able by this stage. I thought this'd be angrier, but I just don't have it in me anymore. I'm really stretching this, aren't I? It's like, two pages double-sided. What can I say, really? It's just a piece of my mind.
Kindest Regards,
Kachi.
Short, but i don't think it needs to be long. Thanks.
