Letters to Johanna

by Sanctuaria

"The world used to turn when you were here. Things used to happen. Without you…everything's just stopped." A collection of letters Kate wrote to her mother, starting the day Johanna died.

2. January 10, 1999

January 10, 1999

Dear Mom,

I can't believe this is happening. I haven't come out of my room since yesterday, and Dad hasn't been inside it except to tell me that he's going to the police station—precinct, I think he called it—to ID your body and help Detective Raglan with the case. He left before I could decide whether I wanted to ask to accompany him.

I don't know if it's better this way or not. There's a lingering doubt in my mind that this is all a misunderstanding, that it's another woman they've found. Not you. Half of me is trying to cling to that doubt, while the other half is trying to quench it. I want to hold onto the hope that you're still alive, still out there somewhere, that I'll see you again, but I also feel like I'm stringing myself along. I don't know which side is winning. I'll tell you when I find out.

I feel numb. Disjointed. The world is surreal right now, like any minute I'm going to wake up and discover this is all some horrible dream. Please let it be a dream.

Please.

Love,

Kate