Forgetful

Letter Six; Gerard

Dear Gerard,

I am repulsive.

Diabolical, atrocious, horrible, terrible, cruel, selfish, idiotic, and evil. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. Why do I exist? Why couldn't I have just killed myself the right way? No. I just can't believe this anymore. I just... I'm crying so hard, the tears running from my face onto the paper. The bottom few lines of this notebook paper are stained with tears. It will be difficult for me to write when I reach that point if I ever do. I'm bleeding too. From my neck, down my collar, where my ferocious hands have been picking, picking, picking away at my skin, frantically. I was praying this moment, now, was a dream, and that the panicked, painful sensation from opening the pale skin on my neck would wake me.

You can imagine my horror when I didn't wake.

So, here I am, Gerard, sobbing uncontrollably. I am screaming as well, and I am also clawing at my neck. I'm going to hate having to explain these bloody holes in my skin. How did I get to this? What could I have possibly done now?

I don't want to say, but I have to. The point of these letters is honesty, right? The point if for me to make up for every goddamn lie I have ever dared to speak, right? 

I cannot bear what I did, but for me to ever be able to die in peace, I have to tell you.

For you to understand, I have to start from the beginning. I have to start from this morning. I can't remember very much, honestly, even though it was only a couple hours ago at the most. 

When I woke up on the floor of my study, Alicia was already gone. I believe she was going to visit her family in Missouri since it's thanksgiving in a few days, but I honestly can't remember. I think she asked me to go, but I've been a little sick recently, so I denied. I mean, I hope I denied because I've been sick, but it might have been because I didn't want to leave Frank.

It was probably because of Frank.

I remember laying on my stomach, my glasses crooked as I stared out of the open, white doorway into the hallways. I wonder if Alicia saw me laying there before she left, and she ignored me. I hope she ignored me. I would hate to think she saw me and wanted to move me somewhere warmer and more comfortable. That's something I don't quite deserve. The cold floor has always been the place best fit for a monster like me.

The past few days have been the best in my life. Frank had spent nearly every single day with me since that afternoon he took me to the zoo, which I barely remember except for feeding the animals. Why did he feed the animals, Gerard? He had a good reason. I know he did, but I can't remember. Why can't I remember?

Sometimes, he'd take me to the park and show me the ducks quacking loudly about the pond. Sometimes, he'd take me to the museum and point out his favorite exibits, but I can't ever remember them even moments after he guides me away. Sometimes, we'd just sit at home and talk, but no matter what, we were inseperable. Somehow, some way, in the past few weeks, Frank had became my best friend.

I am in love with my best friend.

I have always been so careful around him, until now. Since he's started being around me, I've lost more and more control of what I say and do, and sometimes, I don't even notice it until hours later, and I want to tear my hair out. I think I always knew some sort of tragedy like what happened today was going to happen eventually, but I thought if I ignored it, the possibility, it would never happen.

I was wrong, wrong, wrong.

I remember hearing footsteps come inside. They were heavy, as if weighed down or something like that. For a moment, a small part of me hoped it was some intruder here to rob, rape, and kill me. I remember burying my face in the floor as the footsteps approached. They stopped in front of where I was laying. I could hear a sniffle, and then a soft, familar voice stirred the air.