Dear .. Anyone who finds this,
Growing up I felt as if I was all alone, I did things the way I wanted to do
them. I abhor the house I live in and the people in it they all
seemed to be bigot. One day I had the thought of kindling
the entire house while they were sleeping, they weren’t my real family so it
really wouldn’t matter. I remained placid while I struck the
match and set it on the blanket watching the flame grow. Making sure only to
grab my talisman given to me by my birth mother I began to flee.
The cops later found me on an empty street corner, they arrested me and took me
to the precinct. When questioned I looked at the plaintiff with a
counterfeit expression and told them that I had nothing to do
with it, I just ran because I didn’t want to get hurt as well. I explained that
I knew the smoke was noxious for my lungs and I didn’t want to
get harmed. I had no where to live or go, so I decided to do some work for
people around the community so that I could save up. I was remunerated
for this work and eventually got my own place. The guilt of my reprehensible
actions were beginning to eat at me. I took lives for my own hatred, maybe if I
knew my real parents I wouldn’t be this way. The day of my birthday I was very
excited, mainly cause I was finally enfranchised. I felt like I
was apart of something, especially being that I had no say with my foster
parents. I guess all I ever really wanted was to be noticed. All I ever wanted
was to be loved. Each thought of my “family” brought me into an attitude of abasement.
I decided to enhance my combat skills, learning how to use my senses more then
just my eye sight. I could see a hit coming with my eyes closed. I learned to
make the most things silent. Long days and short nights passed, training became
simpler, the billowing ceased. I began to roam the streets, not
knowing where I was going or what I was looking for. Looking for anyone to
blame for everything that’s happened beside myself. Never noticing that there
was no other to blame, or could it be my real parents. My mind was in a
labyrinth, not knowing which thought to think next. My heart had become cold, I
grew stronger, physically and mentally. I felt as if I was tawdry,
no one will ever love me. I began to look for my real parents, simply to show
them what my life has become without them. I had no clue how to find them,
where to start, where I would end. I had this lachrymose feeling,
but could not express it, due to the layers of hate placed over my blighted
heart. After weeks of research I find out that they live in a neighborhood not
too far from mine. I had so many abstruse feelings, now that I
know where they are, what’s next? I decided to go to a bar, get my mind off of
things. On my way I notice I’m being followed by a black van, with dark tinted
windows. The interesting thing is, they weren’t making it hard to spot them. I
kept walking and decided to turn down a one way street, figuring they couldn’t
make the turn. Soon after, I see a dark van turn down the wrong way of the
street. I began to run, I had a blunderbuss in possession, I was
originally planning to pawn it, but I figured it could still shoot. I kept
running, I took the weapon out of my bag in an alley, nothing in sight but an
empty passage back to the street. I began to cringe away from the
street slowly wondering if I had gotten away. I begin to see plumage
falling from the sky, which was odd in the middle of the winter. Soon after I
hear a thunderous bang, the sky blackens, feeling warmth run all through out my
body. I felt my body lifted up abrasively, being abstemious
to the fact that I just got shot. The group remained covert, not
showing there faces at all. I tried to fight them, but it was as if they were
not tangible. I became drowsy, I began to pray for absolution
from god, who I never believed in until that moment. Complete blackness
surrounded me, and all noise began to fade. Hearing the blasphemy spoken
from the surrounding group as they began to mock me. I woke up in a building and began to cower
away from a table which had been placed in front of me. I began to scream as if
there were anyone there to listen. Soon, a strange man walked in, and asked me
my name, then decided to nullify his question telling me to stay
quiet. I wondered “why me?” why am I here, I couldn’t solve this enigma.
The man kept asking me questions, the most interesting one was “why did you do
it?” My response was a labyrinthine mixture of words,
contradicting one another, making sure not to admit that I did it. I asked
where I was, feeling a sharp pain from a laceration on my side
caused by the bullet. I noticed I was wrapped up in gauze and the strange man
replied “Precinct”. This answer seemed credible due to the mirror
and camera placed in the room. The alleged detective walked out the room
mistakenly keeping the door open. I decided to abrogate the
thought of escaping, but after contemplating myself a couple times, I went for
it. The first room I walked in had an emergency exit. Seemed like everything
was on my side. The moment I stepped out onto the fire escape I hear a yell
from behind me I removed some of the gauze placed on me to hasten
my running, figuring I could abstain without it. The last flight to the fire
escape was blighted, so I had two choices, give up and get
arrested or jump for it. I decided to make an obdurate decision
and I went for it. I plummeted into the pile of bags next to me. I kept running
as fast as I could, putting aside the injury I had, the sound of sirens
circling the streets, voices screaming, could they see me, or are they trying
to make me sell myself out? I stopped in a local alleyway and began to enshroud
myself with pieces of cloth found in a nearby dumpster. Soon after footsteps
quickly ran passed me, thinking that I kept going. I waited for them to pass
and went the other way, a car full of teenagers drove by and hurried me in. I
thought of them as harbingers not questioning who they were or where they were
going, just knowing that I was getting away. In the back a young female, fairly
short, not too short, straight hair, and deep brown eyes began to nuzzle me,
realizing that I was cold. I began to act colder then I actually was, in an
attempt to get closer. Fortunately it worked, she introduced herself as Grace,
said that they had seen me escape through the fire escape and thought they
could help. They acted very plaudit of the escape, and said they
had my back. I smiled and agreed, feeling for the first time, like I was apart
of something. Although I appreciated all of them there was a blatant
connection between Grace and I. They said I had to go to a meeting with the
rest of the group, and made sure to tell me not to be tardy. I
rested up and the next morning I headed out to the meeting, I found out that
this was more then just a group of friends, it was more like a cult, but with
so much that they’ve done for me in so little time, I guessed whatever this
cult is about it should be creditable. They decided to ensconce
me into there cult, reprieving my initiation. I began to tell the
entire group about my life and where I start and all the events taking place
recently. They all thought that my story wasn’t plausible, but
Grace, she seems so credulous. I soon became renown
as the kid who heartlessly killed his parents. Grace wasn’t like everyone else,
she didn’t like what I did and we always had conversations about me changing,
but could I? I found it weird that she saw more in me then I saw in myself. She
gave me an accolade for every good deed I did and envenomed me
for the bad. She was something like a bolster, she made me feel secure in a
way, she was one of the first people I’ve ever trusted. Maybe I was too bombast
to realize it, but I was beginning to find our relationship abstruse.
As days went by I became blithe, and more tenacious,
I started to believe more in hedonism or should I just say I‘ve
become a hedonist. I decided to give up, due to the fact that every time I
decided to try to talk about it she became tedium, our
relationship, or what ever it was, was cryptic. I decided to
bring some girls over, her eyes followed
me while I entered the room with the girls looking away once I glanced at her.
The two girls I were with were tentative at first on whether or
not we should do what we were doing, but after a while of making out they began
to acquiesce the idea. Our fun was curtailed by
Grace when she decided to obliterate my belongings. I was oblivious
to the reason she was acting such a way, trying to stop her as she ripped a tenuous
shirt I had just purchased. She would not heed my beg to stop,
and soon she started to holler at me, her voice was resonant
throughout the house. I sat back and took it as she got closer and closer to my
face. All of a sudden I snapped, feeling my arm swing faster then ever and my
fist clashing with her face. I quickly grabbed her and apologized, in complete lamentation
hoping I didn’t hurt her too bad. She pushed me away and ran, and I stood there
in complete disbelief of my actions. I then became crepuscular, thinking of a
way I could get her to forgive me. I wanted to stand on the highest podium
and proclaim my sorrow for my actions. I bought her a plethora of
roses, and she just threw them in the trash. My haughtiness was
getting in the way, I couldn’t just walk up to her and say sorry regularly. Not
in front of everyone she was always around. My enunciation was
great on a regular day, but when I did walk up to her to apologize regularly, I
began to obfuscate my words. I was too headstrong
to just be a gentlemen about it, and the time I did say it in person, she said
it was full of lackluster, or something to that extent. I didn’t
know what she meant until I looked the word up, so now I have to apologize and
be enthusiastic about it? Until one day she walked up to me, and began to temper
her voice and said I would never forgive you for what you’ve done. I was
surprised at how laconic she was, she didn’t even say anything
after that she just walked away. Her friends decided to make a lampoon
out of the situation as I just repudiated there actions. My days
without her were becoming tedium, they had no life, no happiness.
I was hoping that she would be pliable when it came to the
situation, but time showed me that she wasn’t going to be. My actions engendered
the separation between us two, and there was nothing I could do, but accept my resignation.
I had no more resolution left in me, I didn’t know how to love or
feel anymore, my emotions became knotty. In every conversation I
had with the guys I became tangent, continuously bringing her up
in an oblique manner and asking how she was doing. What we had as a couple was
a nuance, my everyday hobbies became hampered by
the newfound heartache. Feeling as though I no longer had an objective, and
having this eternal feeling of ephemeral, I made her one last
breakfast and left. She was always more of an epicure type of
person. I realized that you could not bilk love, and once its
broken, it’s broken forever. I made my way to a local abandoned hangar,
taking nothing with me except a loaded 9 millimeter pistol. By the time you
read this I’ll be in a new place, far from here and finally I’ll be in peace.
-Anthony Luis Tosa
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