Dear May

Prologue: Letters to May

19th October 21--

Dear May,

You asked me not to write but I must talk to someone (though you will not reply). Years have past since our last meeting, I have never been better and I am sure you are well, you were always a most resourceful woman. I know you do not want my thanks. You do not want my words at all. I see how clearly I behaved in the past to deserve this sentiment, I want to apologise to you May. I want to thank you so much. Thank you for taking on this responsibility. Thank you for entrusting me with this beautiful opportunity to right my wrongs. This gift.

I can imagine you reading to her these words. I can hear your comments too and her sighs.

The child grows stronger and more beautiful every day. I never believed that O had been born with blonde ringlets but now I see it was true, but they begin already to grow dark. It fills me with even more love to see these likenesses and at the same time it shatters my inflated heart. You probably roll your eyes, May, at my weak romanticisms. I had never imagined this feeling, to explain how completely I love this child! All words are clipped statements that we hear a thousand times but I have finally felt it. I would I would lose myself for her. It opens the old throbs of my love that never fades. I am normal on the outside but I am carrying an internal bleed.

Send my undying love onwards, May. Please give it to her.

Yours faithfully,

W

11th June 21--

Dear May,

I find this silence drives me to distraction. I hope you are well, I hope these words reach you are well, I hope these words will not become lost. Perhaps I should be more cryptic but I cannot bring myself to do it (what if you misinterpret something!). I want my exact words to reach her. By the Creator, I want them to reach her!

Faithfully,

W

1st July 21--

Dear May,

Your silence is sensible but I wait for signs you are receiving me. I want to hear your voice, your clear-headed opinion and I crave your advice.

The child is changing. She grows wiser and it has been for some weeks that I've suspected that she is no longer alone. Sometimes, I catch sight of a lithe shadow by her heels. I look away and wonder if it is just wishful thinking. I miss her too! I hear her voice often and more clearly than memory, than reality. I wake to her soft voice that lingers in the room! She haunts me more; of all the things to stay it is she.

Yesterday, I paused at the child's door. She was knelt in prayer by her bed. I like to listen to her sweet dreams and well wishes. I manoeuvred myself closer to catch these murmured words, when I caught that name. Her name. The name I wake up crying out, the one I beg for forgiveness even before the Creator. How long it has been since I heard that name whispered. The word sent caught me like a flame. I realised the child was not praying but playing. And there, between her hands, a dark stain on the pristine bed sheets and it moved to lay a ghostly head on one of her pale hands. I heard it answer her; its whisper was inaudible but the sound of it, like her mother's.

I have not yet resolved what to do. I am afraid to have her here again. I am full of emotion. I am being torn between pleasure and pain. I am afraid, May, I am afraid!

Most faithfully,

W

31st July 21-

Dear May,

The creature is substantial. Its lithe body haunts the bushes in the gardens as she plays with the summer buds. They shiver and break off in its wake; the discord of nature it leaves behind announces its physicality in a way that disturbs me. I have not yet permanently attached itself to her, O can say if this is normal, sometimes I see it get distracted and follow someone else for awhile. I watch it and wait with bated breath. But the child calls it back to her. I am still afraid of it. I want to understand this. I know I will love it like I loved before, but this makes me afraid too and I am impatient.

Faithfully,

W.

22nd August 21-

Dear May,

Today it lay in the dying summer sun with her. I could see the sunlight caught in its dark fur and how the child's hair would soon match it. The creature is smaller than I expected, it seems silly to have expected anything else. The nanny tells me she sees it frequently now, before she had mistaken as a toy, it stay so still and silent. I remember O's never did speak or move unless absolutely necessary. I can already feel myself falling in love.

Faithfully,

W

9th September 21-

Dear May,

I almost wish that the child and creature would grow quickly out of their awkwardness with each other, so that I may again have the joy of knowing it. My life was changed from the moment O made that connection with me. It seems like more than a lifetime ago that I was that monster! I see it all so painfully clearly now but that person is dead. That soft-voice creature killed him thank the Creator.

My only worry now is something that O once said me. She had her head cocked to one side, a wicked grin played on her lips but her dark eyes were locked onto mine. She said with a laugh, that she feared her conscience got heavier every day. At the time I did not understand but now I would hate for the child to feel so weary. It's my responsibly to make sure that doesn't happen and it cannot, for she is safer here with me. She can bear her conscience how she chooses. There is no one who can reprimand me. There is no one to chastise. There never was except for you. Please reply to me. Let me listen to you just once more.

Sincerely,

W.