Sherrinford Holmes rested his chin on his knees, listening to the pattering of the rain upon the old roof. Even after four and a half years, he felt a deep guilt. I should have done better, I am so sorry Maggie, the thoughts flashed through his head like they had a thousand times. I never really told her I wanted to marry her, I was such a fool.
He fingered the pencil in his hand, staring at the blank page in his notebook. With a heavy sigh, he began writing. His style was elegant, every letter had it's own curl or swirl. After a few minutes, he read what he had written. It was about time he told Maggie he was sorry.
Dearest Maggie
I know you're dead
and you will never read this, but I'm writing it anyway
I am sorry that I let you go
I am sorry I lost our child
I am sorry for everything
because it was my fault
and I should have protected you.
But instead I let you die, and I lost the one thing you
valued most in the world
even more than me
Iremia
I am sorry.
I love you, and you will never read this, but I am really
so so sorry.
~Sherrinford
He shook his head, tearing the page from the notebook, then standing, he walked to the window, and opened the latch. A cold, crisp breeze whirled through the attic, and immediately the rain began to seep into his clothing. He held the delicate paper in his hand, and then suddenly, it caught in the wind. The white page tossed, and then disappeared from view. The wind had taken his apology, to some far away place. Sherrinford slid onto the windowsill and stared into the dull, grey sky. "I am sorry."
