Dear Mom,

The End of My Beginning

Dear Mom,

After you died I found my dad and moved with him. But, I didn't really move with him. He let me live on my own. I guess that's what big business owners do. He got me an apartment in an expensive neighborhood and let me free. Joey is in jail. It is a long story. I killed Pan got killed. That is part of the long story. Don't worry though, Joey is okay. I visited him just a few days ago. He is hanging on strong. Actually, everyone in the prison is really respectful to him, I have even seen him get special privileges from guards. My therapist said I should start writing you, she said the best way to get over something is to talk it out. And as much as I loved you, I want to get away from you really bad. Remembering you makes me mad.

All the things you felt short on that you could have done better. All the the times your lifestyle made me grow up too fast. I am really mad at you. You never apologized for all the wrong you did to me. Even on your deathbed you were still narrow-minded and arrogant. I hate when people act so arrogant. It's like they are too good to ever do something they're not suppose to, but that's a lie. You, and people like you, do bad things everyday. I remember one time you lied to a police officer saying Pan fainted and that's why you were speeding. He let you go and you sped off faster than when he stopped you. You took advantage of him being naive to the situation. That wasn't nice. It was deceitful. That wouldn't be the first time you deceived someone though. You've done it to about everyone you have ever met. Sometimes you would just tell lies to get people all worked up. I am not talking about little white lies either. I am talking about the kind of lies that make you want to scream and cry. Remember when you told Samantha's grandmother that you found out her son had kidnapped a little boy and threatened to kill you if you called the police? That was NOT a little white lie. You could've given that women a heart attack. She wasn't someone who could handle anything heartbreaking at all, maybe that is why she had a stroke the week after.

Dear Mom,

I got into a kickboxing gym. My therapist said I should do something to get my anger out. She told me I was angry. Well I have a right to be. You left me at home while you got high and drunk when I was only six years old. Pan did drugs and hung me over a cliff for money, until he died. And Dave was not even a part of my life until three months ago, he still values his stupid business more than his "daughter" he just got me an apartment to live in so he doesn't have to be around me. Joey is in jail for taking the blame for a murder he didn't even commit. And I am here writing a dead person like some psychotic druggie. I must be a chip off the old block, huh. Crazy runs in our family doesn't it. You, me, Pan, we are all on the same boat. The Crazy Bunch, that's what people used to call us. I remember, but I don't blame them. We had a lot going on. Not everyone has a brother who gets caught killing a dog. Not everyone has a son who does that. Most people don't even think about killing an animal with a pointy stick except Pan. Pan is the only one. Most people are not that crazy, or imaginative. Who decides to kill a dog with a stick? It would not even cross my mind to kill a dog for no good reason in the first place. Ever. Dogs are not particularly my favorite animal but I do not justify killing animals just to have a little "fun." If someone kills people for fun they go to jail. Kill elephants and you get ivory. Which people make a lot of money off of. Is that how the world works? I hope not. That means we live in a really bad world. What a crooked place the world is.