Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

a shiver down my spine and the sound of glass shatters from the kitchen. I glance to the bed, you’re not there and I think the worst. I check on Sam and Sofia, they’re fine, swimming in slumber land.

My senses grow with instinct as I see the kitchen knife has disappeared and the shards of glass sprinkled along the floor. The door to the drive way is open and my mind races with possibilities and outcomes. I rush out of the door, keeping in mind of the precious cargo inside the house. I utter your name as I see you.

“You,” you whisper. “I’ve been dreaming about you for a very long time.”

My heart breaks, I hate seeing you like this. I hate your suffering yet I know I created this darkness. I’m responsible for your demons and I wish I can save you.

The knife is loose in your hand, you poke the blade at me. “Are you protecting my family? You didn’t do a good job before.”

I am your family. So is Sofia and Sam. I edge towards you, keeping my hands above my head so you can see I won’t hurt you.

“You’re half asleep. I won’t hurt you,” I utter softly. “I love you.”

I step closer yet you walk backwards, not from fear, but from realisation. I drop to my knees, looking up at you. Searching for the truth has come at a price.

A tiny smile flames at your lips and your hands cradle my face. “Your eyes are so beautiful.” You begin to open your shirt and the knife falls from your hand. What are you doing?

I touch your cheek, shaking my head. Then I see it, you realise what’s just happened. Your illusion breaks.

“Isaac,” you whisper. “I…I…”

I kiss your forehead, hugging you to me. “Don’t be scared.”

You don’t have to explain. We’re both fucked up in our own little way, except I have a lot more to work through. I hold you until you begin to cry. I pull you into my arms, picking you up off the ground. We need to get back inside.

I hear the leaves rustle behind me. My back shivers and my muscles harden. I glance over my shoulder and I see them. The ghosts from my past.

Peter, Gerald, Sheila, Victoria, Paul, the green cloaked guard from the forest…

They stare at me, frozen in the moment, blood caking their skin, time eating at their flesh. I head inside the house. I can feel their eyes burning into my skin. I swallow my grief and pity. They don’t want it. They want blood. My blood.

I’m sorry.

Please.

Forgive me.

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