Letters To Cassidy

Chapter 3

After dinner as promised, I headed upstairs to inspect the parcel that had come. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with rope, like an old fashioned parcel would’ve been. My name and address was scrolled in a neat familiar cursive, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I ripped it open, revealing a box, much like the one I kept underneath my bed. I turned over the packaging, and saw no return address. Curious, I opened the box, inside envelopes. Each were numbered, some bigger than others. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to work out who the envelopes could be from. I ripped upon the envelope marked Number 1 and read:

Cassidy,

I don’t really know how to start this letter. It’s weird, thinking that as you’re reading this I won’t be alive. I bet the first question anyone will ask is ‘How did she do it?’ I don’t know if you’ll be interested. Maybe they even already told you. Overdose? Slit wrists? At this point in time, I don’t know. I’m writing these letters to you Cassidy, or Cass as people some to call you nowadays, because I feel like I owe it to you to explain. I feel like I need to explain why I did it. But there are many reasons, and these can’t be explained in just one letter.

I’m taking the time, to explain it to you. I’m taking the time, to help you understand.  Why me? You may ask. I have no doubt you remember the first time we met, the first time I was ever spoken to. You made me feel as though I wasn’t worthless, but that somebody, anybody, was willing to stand by me and call me their friend.

Will you do me a favour Cass? Will you go the Rosemary Cemetery, find my mother’s grave, and finish the letter there? You don’t have to Cassidy, but this is the first step to understanding.

I sat numb, as I read the letter. April. She had written to me, knowing well in advance what she was about to do. I scrambled up pulling on my coat, hoping it wasn’t too late. I rushed downstairs, pushing open the living room door.

“I need to take a quick walk” I told my mother, already turning to go.

“Cass, it’s late…”

“Please Mum, I really need this” I was pleading with my eyes, and she nodded hesitantly. I rushed out, walking quickly to the cemetery. My heart was pounding in my chest, at the thought of April writing to me. I fingered the letter in my jacket pocket, and picked up my pace, eager to finish it. I spotted the barred gates, and pushed them open, listening to the creak they made as I did so. I remembered attending Mrs Morton’s funeral, and found her grave quickly, considering it was starting to go dark. I sat down, reading the plaque Alexandra Ann Morton, beloved Wife and Mother 1970-2012. I felt in my pocket for the half folded letter and continued on.

Are you there? Well we both know I loved my mother more than anything. When she died, it hit me pretty hard, you remember don’t you? You remember how I stopped eating and talking. My mother was everything to me. That’s when I first started thinking about it. Suicide. It bore into my mind wherever I went. Remember when I drowned in that pool? I forced myself into the water, knowing I couldn’t swim. I really wanted to feel closer to my mother. I still do. And in a way being dead made me feel as though I was. You understand, don’t you? I know Cass, I was being stupid, and I’ve probably hurt a lot of people back home. But I couldn’t continue living. Anything was better than the baggage I carried around with me. I won’t stop writing until I’ve explained it to you, I promise.

Read Letter 2 when you’re ready.

Letters to Cassidy from

April.

 “Cass!” I jerked my head towards Mariam, who sat at the dining table, a concerned look on her face.

“Yeah?”