CLAIREMBER 2022
Day 10 - Steve

Hey Steve,

The therapist I saw after my mom and dad died told me to write letters to them to help me cope with their deaths. So, I'm writing one to you.

It's been five years since you died. In that time, I graduated from college. Got a job at an NGO that supports biohazard survivors and relief efforts. Saved more people than I can count. But still, I can't forget the one I couldn't save: you.

I remember every moment, every detail as clearly as if it happened just yesterday. The cold air. The darkness. The relief I felt when I found you barred to the wall. The fear that coursed through me, hot as blood, when you changed and came after me. I remember the rubbery texture of the tentacles that ensnared me, held me like a lamb for you to slaughter. I thought for sure the virus that had gripped you would force you to kill me.

But it didn't. You didn't allow it to. You broke free and then broke me free. And for it, you paid with your life.

I remember, word for word, everything you said to me as you lay dying:

"You're warm."

"Your brother kept his promise. I'm sorry I cannot."

"I'm glad I met you. I love you, Claire."

It was the first time a boy had ever told me he loved me. The last word you ever said was my name. I believed you. I still do.

Thinking of you saying my name brings other names to mind. Sherry. Leon. Christa. Aaron. Jean. Annie. Marco. Alyson. Stephanie. Brandi. Travis. Ray. Tiffany. Tina. Leroy. Sophie. Scarlett. All people I saved. I wish so hard you were part of them.

Wesker told me one day I might see you again, if the virus within you revived you. Maybe that's why I can't let go: because I know, one way or another, that you're out there somewhere, just like Chris was. I didn't rest – couldn't rest until I found him. Maybe I won't be able to rest until I find you, and thank you for what you did: save me so I could be here right now, writing this.

If that's the case, then thank you. Thank you, Steve. Thank you for everything.

I hope writing this helps me move on. If it doesn't, then I guess I'll keep looking for you until I find you or I die. Either way, I'll see you someday.

Until then,
Claire