3: The Letter

SADIE

FOUR HOURS LATER.

It always, like it always has to rain this day of every year. And I in all honesty, I have never minded but tonight’s feels like I am being punished for coming too late. If this heavy downpour is my punishment, it is not enough. 

No it is not. I should be struck by thunder or something more. I got carried away by my loss today. Him causing a raise to my heart, adrenaline aside. Not only is he the first person I failed to kill, but he made me feel something I hate to admit.

“I brought flowers. I am sorry.” I whisper-cry as I kneel on the wet grass.

Placing the flower on her name engraved on the stone, I pull the weeds around her grave with my hands. 

“I wish I was the one six feet under and not you.” I mutter as I continue plucking out the weeds.

“Not only did I almost commit the gravest sin by forgetting to come here, I lost today. I failed to kill the Alpha guy. I do not know why he is being called an alpha. He is just some ordinary man. I could snap his fuck.ing neck, stab or burry my bullet in either his skull or aim perfectly at his heart. But I do not know where I went wrong. Maybe it was because I hesitated for the first time ever in six month – my bad. I am being selfish again. I came here to see you and I am talking about the reason I almost could not see you. 

Well, more reports… remember the journal you bought for me a week before everything? It is here. I write everyday about matters I would have loved to share with you and gotten your advice on. Just because writing it feels like I am talking directly to you but without answers. 

You taught me that those above see all, so you must have seen me while I was writing this for you. Still, I will read it out.” I say as I stand back.

Taking out the plain purple journal, I open it to the bookmarked page and glace at her name engraved on the stone once more before parting my lips to begin reading;

Dear Sister Esther,

Hi! 

Today makes it ten years since I heard you laugh, talk, or argue with dad. I have not been the same without you. You know the movie walking dead? I know you do. We watched season one together. While the movie focused on the zombies after either being beaten or taken by death, I died the moment I stepped into the pool of your blood. I have become a walking dead too. When they see me, they think I am alive, but I am dead.

My happiness and humanity drained at that very moment. If wishes could bring back the dead, you would be here. And if I could die in your stead I would. I know killing others would not bring you back, but at least I would do it for you. They said you killed yourself but I know you never had it in you to do so. You loved me and at least for me you would do no such thing as killing yourself.

I know you wanted me to grow up and one day find the one for me. I know you wanted what is best for me. I know you and Dad never saw eye to eye but you both agreed on only one thing and that was me never following this path I am following. 

As much as you hate this, I know you will be proud of me. I got too emotional writing this, so I will stop here for now...

Trailing off as fireflies begin to light up everywhere, I wipe my tears and smile. 

“I never knew this letter would make you happy. Thank you for showing up.” I whisper.

Folding the paper, I find a stone with the aid of my phone’s flashlight and the fireflies. I place the paper on her grave and hide it with a stone.

“Since you are here, maybe I should tell you about today? You heard when I said it the first time, but you know me well. When I want to tell a story again, I start from the beginning. So, here we go; I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” I pause to chuckle dryly.

“I always wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Always. But today, I woke up on the worst side. I woke up to a pounding head, and to make matters worse. The task I had accepted to kill an ex for an ex failed. Whenever the news reporters wanted to report my kills, they called me a shadow, sometimes they called me invisible. I am fast. I do my job well. For some reason I failed and it is really fuc.king with my mind. I cannot seem to think straight. All I am thinking about is how he challenged me. He frea.king pinned me against the wall with a knife to my carotid artery… he was going to kill me before I did. 

I take it as an insult to my perfection. He thought he was sleek, he has only made matters worse for himself. I do not accept such insult. So either of us has to die. It is either I kill him or he kills me. I hate him. I hate him so much, I cannot seem to explain. The more I talk about it, the more I want him dead. This time, I will not make use of a weapon, I will not touch him but I will make sure he begs for death even before death comes for him. I stand in front of your grave to swear.” I add and I feel my heart beat faster than usual.

Moving my hand over my chest, I rub it to suit it and bow in respect, before backing away.  I walk back to my car without looking back like I usually do when leaving. Settling in, I rest my head on the steering wheel as my phone lights up from the middle console. Indicating that I have an incoming call.

“This is the third time you have failed to show up after a proper plan.” Matt says as I leave the phone on speaker while I drive.

“Are you disappointed?” I ask as I look back briefly to reverse.

“No. I know I mean nothing to you. I know this thing between us is nothing to you. I know it is hard for you to feel for me or any other man, but I am trying to make you see it is more than the se.x….”

“Thing? We have a thing going on between us? I had no idea.” I cut him off.

“Sadie…”

“It is off. Whatever ‘thing’ you are thinking of is over. Just because I fuck.ed you twice does not mean you are special or we have a thing. It is called protecting myself. I was bothered with going through the process of running medical tests for infections and repeating the whole story of how it is going to be a one-time thing. Matt, it was convenient for you.” I tell him.

“You say really harsh words. That would make a man never fall in love again or trust another woman, but even if it is just one more time. Just once more. Sadie, please.” 

“Get yourself a girl after this.” I respond.

“I love you.” He says and I terminate the call, as I turn to swap routes.