Letter to Dust

CW: Domestic abuse

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                LETTER TO DUST

If you are reading this letter, I want you to know that twenty-four hours from now I would cease to exist in this world and my soul will get the peace it's been craving for.

I do not need your sympathy or tears ,neither do I want you to visit my gravesite. I want you to shed no tears because I do not deserve any drop of it.

For twenty-five years I have carried hurt, bitterness, shame, hate, anger and every negative emotions you could think of. I vowed never to carry these emotions to my grave, so when you read this letter, just know I have found peace and eternal freedom.

If I was to write a book about my life, the theme of every single page will be titled "sorrow". And it will be printed with the blood of the man I hated the most, 'my father'. The unfortunate monster that brought me into this world.

Right from the day I was born, he never saw me worthy to be treated like a son. I was even told he was not present the day i was brought into the World because that moment happened to be the best time my acclaimed father could take a nap. As a four year old, he would set standards that even an eleven year old cannot attain. I suffered constant abuse emotionally and physically. I was called weak. I was called dumb. I was called a woman. He never allowed me grow like every other child my age.

Countless times he would hit me, punched me till I began to bleed, dragged me like a piece of thrash. On two occasions he threw me from a two story building. I nearly died at the second attempt. I incured a broken shoulder and some fractured ribs and I was driven into coma for eleven months.

I never knew the cause of the hate towards me. I never had a good time with him and anytime he goes to work i pray he never returns but my prayers were left unanswered because immediately it 5pm each day his car horn will surely sound. As they say, "Iron sharpens iron" so does "hate sharpens hate". Thirteen year old me on the hospital bed swore to payback every tears my pillow had carried. Not once, not twice but every single day..my eyes shed more tears than twenty people would cry in their lifetime.

Gradually the devil was born in me. Right there on that hospital bed I tightened my fist, closed my eyes and shed my last tears. 

Those tears felt hot as they strolled down my cheeks. Those tears were filled with hate, anger and pain......

It didn't take months before the devil saw the potential in me and began to use it for his benefits. I became cruel and tailored for destruction, I became a gold statue, all beauty but no heart.

Mom....

If you are reading this letter, I want you to know that I killed the bastard of a man you called husband. And that was the day I tasted blood. Yes! I literally tasted his blood to feel the hate he carried all through his life. I enjoyed the feeling of seeing him groan to death and no one was there to rescue him.

Mom please don't cry when you read this. Apart from the hate dad gave me, I couldn't stand the torture he gave to you too. I couldn't stand the swollen face and the red eyes you had to treat after he had beaten the living daylight out of you. I couldn't stand the lies you had to tell your friends to cover up for his maltreatment. I couldn't stand the times you were locked up in a dark room, raped and starved for days.

Mom..... Please cry no more and be happy that I put an end to all your sufferings. Call me your hero and turn those tears into joy.

I'm tired of seeing you cry for a man whose heart is as hard as a rock.... Mom, my soul had found peace so should yours.

At the time I wrote this, the poison I took has begun to take effect.

I can feel my system reacting to it ...... So before I drop my pen, please hear this...

I made a vow and struck a deal with other demons to make the life of that monster miserable . A deal I took an oath on...

I have arranged for your death too mom. I signed that deal because I secretly hated you too...

I secretly hated you for not speaking out,for not speaking up, for bottling it all up. I secretly hated you for not running away from the wilderness of slavery but hoping God would make a way. I secretly hated those times you went in search of a therapist just to learn how to cope with him , i hated those moments when you would pray for him to change only to end up battered when he unleashed his rage.

Please don't cry when you read this mom.. I have found peace and I want you to find peace also. Don't try to look for me, you will never find me. I would have been few hours gone into the land of the dead before this letter reaches your hands. And don't try to run mom..you can't hide from the devil.

After reading this.... Please I want you to sit back on dad's favorite chair and relax (maybe you could understand his hate too), eat , drink and merry , turn on the stereo and listen to that Lucky Cube's favorite song you liked .....

And if you would cry...let it be a cry of peace and freedom mom because it's all over mom. I don't know if God would forgive me because I don't deserve his forgiveness, but I pray he forgives you.

I did all this because I love you...

Your Son,

Dead.

(FICTION).