A psychopath is better than no path at all.

Chapter Three

It had been one week since the mystery visitor arrived at my house and shocked me to death, leaving news that no doubt left a serious mark.

I was currently sitting bolt-upright on one of the love-seats in my living room fiddling with a sealed envelope. I ran my finger along the edge, and twirled it around on my fingertips, trying to gather the strength and ability to actually open it.

Nobody ever sent me letters and it was even more suspicious to me since I was still shaken up because of the whole finding out David's hidden profession thing.

After a few more minutes of mindlessly playing with the seal I finally ripped the opening off, like tearing a newly-applied plaster off of a wound.

I slipped the letter out of the pouch and opened it up – no going back now. My eyes scanned over the letter, widening once reading it's contents.

Dear Joline,

Such a lovely name – Joline. A lovely name for a lovely person, I guess. Too bad who you were partnered with in life dragged you down into the deep, darkness of this twisted world.

He wasn't good enough for you, was he? Tut, tut, if only you had known that in the beginning. Then you probably wouldn't have to face the fate that you are now.

I promised you I'd be back and who am I to break my promises? Although I'm afraid that this visit won't be as good for you as the last one. You have around ten minutes to say your goodbyes, darling. Because now that you have opened up this letter the time is ticking.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

See you soon – trust me, sooner than you believe,

Your mystery visitor.

***

A lone tear rolled down my cheek as I silently let out all my pent-up emotions. This is it. The end.

There's no point in fighting back; it's a lost cause. This man is definitely not somebody to mess with and, because of David's mistakes, I'm about to learn that lesson the hard way.

But I am, in no way going to let him have all of his own way.

Sure, I'll still have an early departure from the living world but at least I'll still be equipped with my pride, the one thing that David had left me with when he went and the one thing that I shall keep once I go.

I swiftly stood up, swiping my palms across my eyes, getting rid of any evidence that I had let my emotions get the better of me and made my way out of the room, placing the note on the small coffee table as I left.

Mother was still sleeping as I made my way into her bedroom. I looked around, I hadn't been in here ever since the incident had occurred and not much had changed;

The walls still had an old-fashioned wallpaper on them with wooden skirting boards lining the bases of the walls. There were some of my father's paintings hanging on the wall, giving off a homely feeling. My father had been an artist. My mother had always loved his works, eager to see his next creation time after time.

My eyes landed on the bed as I made my way to my still sleeping mother. She looked so peaceful in her slumber, not showing all the trauma that she has experienced in her misfortune-riddled life.

I brushed a few strands of her away from her eyes and lightly kissed the top her fore-head, whispering as I did so;

“I love you, mummy.”

She had always wanted me to call her mum or mummy, she never like the word 'Mother' but I could never help but address her in a formal way after what happened. I never knew why, though. Psychological damaging weakening the bonds I had with still living loved-ones, maybe?

At that, I silently tip-toed out of her room, letting one last tear escape from the eyes that have seen so much as I made my way to the bathroom.