Letters from the Dead

Frank didn’t have much of an appetite recently, but he still cooked and ate whatever he could. He loved cooking and it calmed him. Today, he had picked at and nibbled on the salad that he had tossed together, but had given up after shoveling a few mouthfuls down his throat.

The look on Bob’s face when he entered the kitchen where Frank was washing up the dishes after dinner worried him.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked, drying his hands on a towel.

Bob wordlessly passed Frank a letter. Frank peered at the words and recognized the languid scrawl on the letter.

“Is this… from… Gerard?” Frank choked.

Bob nodded.

“How…? Where?” Frank asked, caught helplessly in the onslaught of emotion.

Bob just shook his head, and gestured for Frank to read the letter.

Frank opened the letter and began to read it, his heart throbbing unbearably at the familiarity of the scribble across the paper…

My dearest Frank,

I’m so sorry.

I know these words may seem useless… they are merely words on paper now. They’re just not enough for me to atone for my sins. But they are the only ones that I can say now. There are so many things I wish to say to you now. So many emotions I wish to convey to you… so many more I cannot put into words.

I have betrayed you, Frankie. I have deceived you for the past twenty years. I wish I can tell you this face to face but I’m a fucking coward. I know you hate it when I say that, and you always tell me that I’m so brave, your brilliant FBI agent, your loving boyfriend with a big heart… But I’m not who you think I really am. I am a monster. I have been a bloody hypocrite for twenty years, and I’m sick of it all.

My dear, sweet Frank… I don’t deserve your love...

I know that when you have finished with this letter, you will probably hate me for leaving you. Hate me for betraying you, hate me for lying to you. I really didn’t mean to… Well, that’s another lie. I’m laughing bitterly at myself when I’m writing this but I cannot help it. I can’t stop lying, can’t I?

I lied to you for twenty years, and although I have felt guilty I never said a word. I never wanted to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to lose you. But I know I cannot leave this world without telling you this. You deserve to know the truth.

I was the one who raped Elizabeth Iero.

I was the one who raped your sister.

I was the one who caused her death.

Now, you finally know me for the coldblooded monster I am.

Funny how I thought I loved her back then. I was so obsessed with her. Lizzie was beautiful, intelligent, witty and everything I believed I wanted. I hungered for her so badly, but she never took a second look at me. I was so desperate… I was a callous beast. I did the unimaginable. I can still hear her screams in my head now, begging me to stop. But I never did. Oh god, I wished I did.

In the beginning, I was afraid. Afraid of the consequences, of going to jail, of losing my future. I pleaded with Lizzie not to say a word, I swore to make it up to her, I promised to love her and to look after her. She had just looked at me, pale-faced, tears in her eyes and said… “Gerard… Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” And then she told me to look after you. All I felt was relief that she wouldn’t take me to the police and that I wasn’t going to prison for the terrible thing I did to her. The respite was so profound that it didn’t occur to me that it was strange that she had told me to look after you, as though she wasn’t expecting to be able to do it herself. I didn’t think about it.

I’m an egoistic bastard, aren’t I? Even though I was the one who took Lizzie’s future away without a care, I was so worried about my own, so worried that she would single-handedly destroy my future.

And then a week later you told me she was gone. That she had killed herself, slashed her wrists and committed suicide in the bathroom. I couldn’t believe it. I felt so remorseful, so guilty and mortified… It turned my life inside out. I felt so unclean, so impure… so corrupt. Like no matter how many times or how hard I scrubbed myself, I would never be able to erase my sins. But I was a coward, Frank. I didn’t turn myself in, and even though there were times when I felt so ashamed, angry and guilty that I wanted to kill myself, I didn’t have the courage to.

The irony was that I became an FBI agent for Lizzie. I worked hard… I threw my heart and soul into it. In a way, I guess I was seeking reparations. I wished with all my heart and soul that I could exonerate myself through solving these cases. What naivety! I foolishly thought that maybe the guilt I had would go away after I caught others like myself and helped those like Lizzie.

It ached so badly every time I saw a crime of passion involving teenagers, Frankie. The darkness in me never faded away... I could feel it lurking threateningly at the corners of my mind. It whispered to me, seduced me and called to me. Somehow, every crime I worked on worsened my compunctions. It hurt more that I was good at it… It hurt more that I understood the way the villains behind these crimes of passion thought. The reason why I understood them, how I could comprehend their motives and how they would act, was that I was a monster… just like them. Every praise or compliment for my work felt like a fucking slap to my face. A constant reminder that I was a beast.

I knew I deserved it though.

Then, when you and I fell in love… I was so afraid to lose you, Frankie. There have been moments when I would look at you and be overcome with so much fear that my heart would freeze up as though it would stop beating the next second. I was so terrified that I would wake up from this wonderful dream and you would know the truth, stop loving me and hate me.

Remember the Rachel Phillips case? The similarities between Rachel and Lizzie are immense. The boy we caught… He reminded me of myself. My younger, monstrous self. I guess that’s why the nightmares started. Every night I would dream of killing myself… and then I would see Lizzie, beautiful and deadly, in my dreams. She would tell me that she’s waiting for me. And the phonecalls at night – I hear her voice over the phone. She has called many times already, telling me that it’s time for me to keep my promise to look after her. Every night I cry and beg her to let me stay with you, to look after you, to love you. And every night she tells me the same thing – that I don’t deserve you.

Perhaps I’m having a psychological breakdown. But the dreams and phone calls feel so real. I keep telling myself that they aren’t, that they are a figment of my imagination but my dreams and reality have bled into each other so much so that I’m unable to discriminate between them anymore.

I’m so tired of it, Frank. I’m tired of lying to you, tired of all this guilt… Tired of the constant fear of losing you.

This is the only way I know how to let everything go.

I’m so sorry, Frank. I never meant to hurt you… But I know no matter what I do or say now, I will hurt you. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I know you never will… If our positions were reversed, I would hate me. Whatever you feel after reading this letter, please know that I love you. I love the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way you hug me, the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you comfort me… I will always love you, and these words were never a lie when I said it to you. NEVER. Loving you has been my only reality all these years, my only solace. My life has been full of regrets and mistakes, but the one thing I never regretted was loving you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I beg you, please remember that, and please don’t doubt my love for you.

Take care of yourself, Frankie. I will always love you.

I will find my way home to you one day.

Yours forever,
Gerard

The roaring in Frank’s ears deafened him as the world that he had tried to carefully piece together splintered into a million pieces … again.

Notes

Within Temptation - What Have You Done

Would you mind if I hurt you?
Understand that I need to
Wish that I had other choices
than to harm the one I love

What have you done now?!