Wickedly Twisted

The Coward's Letter

Words are just too powerful. It’s the only thing I’m holding on. I marvel with them. I play with them. I write and when I do, I feel bliss. It’s an escape from my cruel world. It’s my haven.

But it’s just so ironic that words, the thing I love the most, is other people’s way of hurting me. Intentionally or unintentionally. It hurts me, those words pains me. And it’s grave.

My parents separated when I started my senior year in high school and no one bothered to take the liberty on taking me with them. They left me on our house, sending me a monthly allowance. But that isn’t enough. I need them, their presence, their guidance but they took that away from me. I have no one to lean on but only my notebook and my words. I am friendless. How ill-fated could that be?

Each day is a struggle between keeping myself alive and fighting the urge to give up. I am hopeless. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m such a big loser and it pains me, for I didn’t know how to defend myself. Maybe, I was really a sucker.

But one day, I wake up having this urge to do something. I want to stop them from pulling me down. I want them to hear me out, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll understand me, finally.

That’s when I auditioned to the University’s Publication. And truth be told, my skills in writing never failed me. I passed the audition and became a part of the team. I was assigned in the creative writing and was given the opportunity to write to my heart’s content. There, I pour out all my frustrations through words. I say what I wanted to say. I write what it has to be said.

My co-members were proud of me. Slowly, I gain the confidence I never had before. The school body did accepted me, too. At some point, people finally understand how tough it was for me.

I thought, everyone was going to love what I’m doing. But I was wrong, not my parents. They say that it’s non-sense. That what I’m doing is just a total bullshit. And that I am never going anywhere.

And that’s why I’m here in this place, pouring my heart out in this piece of paper I managed to get from somewhere. At this point, you’ll finally get the idea that this is not really your ordinary kind of letter.

I just can’t understand why the ones whom I thought will be there for me when I’m slowly gaining everyone’s respect, are also the ones who took the liberty on pushing me down, and never letting me get up again. They are my parents, for Goddamn sake! And yet, they don’t believe in me, they don’t believe in their son.

So, to you, who’s still reading this letter up to this very words, let me tell you this: I failed.

I fought, I tried my best, and yet, it was too much. Everyone gets tired, right? And I got tired. How will I ever gain myself back if my parents never believed that I can?

By the time you read this, I’m obviously dead. Perhaps, days, weeks, months, years, decades, I really don’t know.

But one thing is for sure, if you’re like me, who wanted yourself to get killed…please, stop it. I’m a coward, yes, I am. But I don’t want you to be someone like me.

I want you to be someone who managed to get through a rough storm, someone who survived, and someone who never gave up.

Don’t run, stop holding your tongue. Maybe, there’s a way out of the cage where you live. Maybe, one of these days, you can let the light in.

I’m telling you this…because nobody dared to tell me those exact words. And maybe, just maybe, even if this is a suicide letter, it’ll make you see things. Things I didn’t get to see.

Live. I want to see you be brave…for I can’t do it for myself anymore.

Sincerely,

Brave Meyers

***

The sun had set and yet, I still pushed her to join me in coming to this old library before heading to where we were supposed to be. It felt nostalgic. Years ago, we used to stay here and spend our long vacant hours in this same building.

I looked at Julienne’s beautiful face as I fold the piece of paper I just finished reading. We were stiffly standing in front of an enormous book shelf situated at the farthest and most unvisited part of the library. I couldn’t help myself but to smile to a sudden realization.

“Is there something funny?” she quizzically asked as she stepped closer to me. Just when the time that she came face to face to me, I instantly enveloped her into a big warm hug.

She was about to speak again and pinch my nose when I heard someone calling us.

“Hello, Sir and Ma’am! I’m sorry to interrupt you but I have to tell you that the students are now waiting for the book signing,” the bald man wearing a white sleeves with an awkward smile announced.

I nodded and waved my hand, gesturing him that we’d follow. The man get the idea and although reluctant, he bowed his head and proceeded to the library’s exit.

“Baby, they’re waiting for you. The students are giddy to have their books signed!” Julienne touched my cheeks, held my hand and gave it a light squeeze. I suppressed a smile but I couldn’t for I could still feel myself grinning awkwardly as I excitedly wrote something on my post-it note.

After a minute, I happily handed it to Julienne together with the letter I get from the book. With a puzzled expression, she read it.

            I wrote this letter when I was about to kill myself. And then you came in this library and interrupted me by flashing an annoying smile. Thank you for the friendship and the love that comes after. Thank you for standing still for me even if I was at my worst. You’re the reason why I haven’t killed myself. Thank you for making me brave. I love you, Julienne.

I never thought that I could still feel this kind of happiness, the kind which you could only smile as you realize that you surpassed something unsurpassable. It was so dark back then, I almost killed myself. And yet, I’m here, looking back to the past that I once faced before.

Stronger and yes, braver.