Diary of a Sociopath

Chapter 33- Never Forgotten

That night, above all has been haunting me since it happened. I can feel everything as if it was present. The feeling of his blood on my skin, of his final breaths being felt, of his eyes closing in front of me. Everything felt like a permanent, emotional tattoo. I arrived at the hospital an hour later after being questioned and found he died in my arms-as I felt. His cause of death was the bullet hitting a vessel between his lungs and his stomach. Hearing everything felt like a storm brewing inside. I was angry and sad and in denial of it all. He had just spoken to me a few hours ago and now he had a death certificate. It is too hard to imagine so much potential and love lost-but this is why I'm writing.

Lincoln Allan was a man known by few. He had a dazzling smile and a sinful smirk. He enticed many by his kind heart and quiet life. He offered and accepted a love unable to be explained by any adjective or scholar. He saved my life-every day. He is seen on the news as a monster because of his diary entries. The words he wrote in confidence, at his weakest moments. But I want to publish this so everyone can know his true soul and heart and intention.

Everything Lincoln did was to protect me and my son. I reread his entries and see now he was simply a lost soul. He was in need for someone to accept him, and I lost him before I could tell him that, but I beg he knows it now. I cannot stress enough his impact on me, so I will simply leave you with this simple thought:

"There is no rest for the wicked, and those with good hearts are often jaded. Not everything is black and white, but Lincoln saved my life. Each day since I met him, I knew he was trouble...bittersweet trouble. We had our ups and downs, but never stopped caring for one another. And most say I'm blinded by love or lust-or in desperate need for attention. But it is as simple as this; I was a simple retail clerk when he met me. He followed me every day to be sure I got home alright. The one night I didn't, he saved me. I cannot say it enough; he saved me. So think of how evil someone can be if they gave their life to someone undeserving of it."

***

As for what happened to everyone else...Joe was caught by police not even a block from where he shot Lincoln. With gun powder on his hands, motive, and my statement-he got life in prison. Matthew and I moved to California for a better start-we quickly realized that we needed to show how much he meant to us. Avoiding all interviews, I decided to publish this book to show Lincoln's son...who his father was...

The son I discovered two weeks after Lincoln's death. And I hope whoever else reads this, knows the legacy of Lincoln Allan. Perhaps once misunderstood, never a monster, and forever my hero. He will always be my love, the father of my child, and my inspiration. He was dark and tempted by his cravings that he refused to give into when it came to choosing between me and that. And so I ask you...do you believe in the news articles? The interviews? If so, that I suppose you would say this is the Diary of a Sociopath....

And I would have to disagree.

Forever in our hearts, Lincoln. Never forgotten.

THE END

SIGNED

AVA ALLAN