Dead & Gone. [UNDER REVISION]

Chapter 28: Letters from the Dead.

Chapter 28: Letters from the Dead.

Dear Peasnie Ann Sullivan,

March 15, 2009

Happy 14th birthday, Peasnie! Jesus Christ, you’ve been a rotten teenager for a year already. Seems like just yesterday you were sleeping in my arms, all weak and defenceless and today you’re 14. Wow. I’m taking time out of my day to write to you, we’re on tour. Tomorrow we go home. I’m glad to be going home. I hope you’re just like me, having a ball with life. I hope you’re nothing like me in these next few years, I did a lot of crazy stuff that I’m not proud of but I’m not ashamed of what I did. I hope you’re doing well in school with lots of friends. I hope whatever you’re dreaming of, you go for it.

I chased a duck a while ago; the guys named it Stallion Duck. It was the biggest fucking duck I’ve ever seen. I said that catching that Stallion Duck is my dream; I want you to chase your Stallion Duck. You are a Sullivan so I know you can do it.

I’m proud of you whoever you are. I don’t care weather you’re gay, straight, bisexual. I don’t care if you’re tall or short, round or skinny. I don’t care if you’re a boy, girl or someone between. I don’t care if you paint, play music or pose for pictures. If you’re proud of you, so am I. I’m proud of you Peasnie Ann Sullivan for everything you’ve done in life and will do in life. I’m proud of you for being you.

I want you to know that I love you even though you’re far away from my arms. You’re far from my arms but close to my heart. I was watching the night sky last night and I saw the little star and big star. It reminded me of the story I told you when you were a newborn. You laid on my chest as I looked out the window at the night sky. You started to cry so I made up that story and made sure that little star found her way home.

I hope one day my little star finds her way home. I hope one day you’ll find your way back into my arms. I love you with every ounce of my existence.

Love dad. Xoxo.

PS: Catch that fucking Stallion Duck, no matter how big it is. I believe in you.

I loved this letter; it was the one he wrote me four days before I found him. I loved the fact that he sent me a letter for every holiday, birthday and sometimes just because. He was a good dad. I love him.

I sighed and sat on the bed staring down at the letter. Whenever I read this letter I think about how many things in life I’ve run away from. I’ve run away from drumming because of the memories that were associated with it? I can’t keep running from the memories. I need to embrace the memories and smile at the good and bad. I need to I think of who I am and where I’m going.

My gaze ran up to the mirror that sat on the low standing dresser. My reflection stared back at me. I felt like I was letting him down because I wasn’t going to catch that fucking duck. I’m going to make myself into the person I want. I stood up off the bed and marched over to the mirror. My fingers grasping onto the scissors that lay on the table top. I glared at myself before cutting the hair from my head. I was happy with the way I looked before my dad died. I was happy with where I was going. I watched as the long dark locks of hair fall to my bare feet. I couldn’t help but smile at the way my hair looked now. It was really short; I truly looked like my dad. I know that no matter how much I tried I wasn’t going to be my dad. I’m gonna be me. Peasnie.

I tip toed my way to the bathroom and snagged the hair shaver from the drawer and waltzed back to my room. I don’t know why I was being quiet; no one was home but me. Matt, Brian, Zack and Rosie had a talk about things, they’re wanting to be apart of their kids’ lives but Rosie doesn’t want them to know their dads. That’s stupid.