Dear Maria

Dear Maria,

I regret to inform you that our son has passed this mournful morning. My pen hovers above the parchment not willing to ink further the words that will cement this fact. My son is dead, not at the cruel hands of fate did he die, he died at my hands. I, ignorant of the connection he had to the world, plucked his soul from his connection to God himself and cast our boy to Lucifer, into the awaiting mouth of the devil himself.

I hold all the blame to our son’s untimely demise. It is with a sorrowful hand that I feel the need to express my wrong doings and to explain his death in the clearest way possible, and for me that is in long hand. I feel the need to tell you how our son came to be hanging from the loft of our barn.

If I were to start anywhere it would have to be the morning before last. When our son’s friend came calling. You know Jacob, ever impressionable, we both thought Matthew was an ill influence, maybe if we would've punished Jacob more he would still be here. I digress, Jacob and Matthew were heading out into the town and I encouraged them to be good young Christian boys. To which Matthew made a snide, and degrading, remark to copulate with my mother.

I do not know all the facts of what transpired in town, but I can share what I do know through second hand.

I know our son and Matthew made it into the town where they proceeded to drink copious amounts of alcohol. After getting sufficiently wasted they promptly got into a fight with another patron of the establishment where they racked up a enough damage that a bill was sent by courier to the house for the cost of no less than one thousand, just in property damages, this does not include the alcohol Jacob and Matthew dropped down their gullet.

For an hour after I know not what they were up to. I can only assume that it is what led them into the path where the consequences were destructive to our family name.

Henceforth further explanation come from the constables of the town. First, our son was spotted running through town, in the buff. Yes, in the nude. His penis was out for the town to see. Flapping around like a phallic flag. This was later explained as someone stealing his clothing, but I can't dare to pen the reasoning behind our son’s disrobing. Not yet.

After this delightful gallivanting. Jacob and Matthew proceeded to a tavern, where apparently they ate twice their body weight in mackerel and chips. After leaving the tavern Matthew, the impetuous boy, decided to jump into the river. Striping down to his undergarments. During this time, no one knew where Jacob was, I assumed he was no further than five yards from Matthew, but this fact I know not.

When they returned home, I was out. I had went to a tavern, not one the boys had visited. I had some liver and returned back home to find the boys in a lover's embrace. I blew up on them.

After removing himself from our son’s rear, I, in a fit of rage, started rumbling with the pansy. I got two blows in, one to the temple, the other to his spleen. Matthew, being young though, had me pinned to the ground like nothing. His arm pressed against my windpipe. He was screaming in my face, calling me every name he could. When my vision started the falter, Jacob pulled him off me. He told the boy to leave, and that he'd see him later. See him later. You see that. The boy nearly kills his father and he says that he'll see him later.

After the boys got dressed, Matthew scurried out. Jacob lit up a fag and stuck it in his mouth, we stared at each other. He was the first one to speak. He told me he wasn’t apologizing. Finally, finding my tongue, I tore into him. Trashing his choice of friends, his ideology. Told him that his choices do nothing but embarrass us. I told him that if Matthew ever stepped foot back into the house I’d kill him.

With that, Jacob called me a bastard and ran off to his room.

I refused to believe my son was a gay little pansy. I refuted that illogical outcome. How could my son, the boy I raised grow up to love men? I feared what else could our son be? A pedophile? I wanted to storm up to his room right then and tear it apart, looking for some evidence to prove that I was wrong. That I had nothing to fear about my son. Maria, I can’t even believe what I fool I was. I pushed Jacob to a breaking point no father should ever push their son into. I say this, though, in retrospect.

I cannot express the grief I feel at what occurs next.

I came back home from the mill and Matthew was there in the living room when I walked in. I didn't know where Jacob was, but Matthew was there on the chair. He tried to apologize. He tried to explain that he couldn't explain his feelings for Jacob. They were new, and he was afraid. All the useless babbling from a certifiable pansy. I told him such. He knew I wouldn't relent, so he rushed me, and I held to my promise. I killed him. The knife slid into his abdomen smoothly, all the way down to the hilt. I pulled it out and an arc of blood sprayed out almost hitting me. I didn't stop. The rage overtook me, and I couldn't stop stabbing the knife down. I don't know when but Jacob was back, screaming. He slammed into me, bawling. Telling me I was the utmost horrendous human being every to grace Earth. Then, he punched me and I was out.

When I woke back up I was in bed. Jacob had carried me up to the room and placed me in bed. I walked back down to the living room and saw that he also cleaned up after me. Took Matthew’s body from the floor. I don't know where he went. I was feeling proud of my son though. Cleaning up after his father. I figured maybe he came to his senses. I was wrong.

I walked out to the barn, where I found Jacob standing in the loft looking down at me. He had Matthew leaned up against the tree facing the barn. Where he could see him. He already had the noose wrapped around his neck. He told me he could live without him, and jumped. I could even move as I watched my son’s face turn purple. My ears were ringing. I stumbled my way to the barn, and cut my boy down.

Maria, when you get this I too won’t be around, I will be taking the same path I pushed our son to take. I pushed him into committing this heinous action. I cannot live with myself, this sorrow will never leave me. Please blame not yourself for my passing, in the end, I am fully to blame. I killed two boys. I too shall follow suit.

Forever I love you Maria,

Luke.