Nothing. That's what I've got left. I'm not even going to bother saying 'Dear Mark' or whatever, because this is it. I want to give in now, tell someone what I did so they can kill me or something. I've just had enough of these nightmares. I haven't slept for weeks. Everytime I blink I just see those dull, empty eyes staring at me, burning into my brain. I swear Mark, I don't know how to stop it. This guilt makes it feel like I'm drowning. I need someone to tell me how to make it stop. I'm ready to give in right now. The only thing stopping me is you. It just makes me wish I'd never written to you in the first place. Billy would be with a better family and I wouldn't be here. But I can't take it back now, can I?
If I stopped writting, maybe you'd assume someone had found out or that I was dead, maybe I should do that. Just stop this letter right here and leave it. But I can't. I think you know why I could never do that. If you don't, tough luck. I'm not going to spell it out for you. Think about it. Apparently, I'd be better off dead. Well that's what my dad said. Surely that counts as bullying? I think he knows something if I'm honest. Well it looks like I'll be getting blackmail from him soon. What fun. Anyway, lets just forget my problems now, I know you have your own. In more way that one. Lets carry on with the story.
"Anna." Jack growled, but my eyes were fixed on the puce bruises becoming visible on Dylan's face. Dylan's eyes met mine and he smiled slightly, telling me he was ok and not to worry. Well that wasn't likely to happen. Instead, I chose to ignore them.
"Uncle Bill, meet Jack and Dylan."
He grunted in response and walked over to them, standing as tall as he possibly could. He might as well have been a peacock. He always did this, sizing up anyone he met.
"Ok, so which one of you knocked her up?"
I could have literally slapped him. But Jack, however, shakily raised his hand.
"That would be me...sir." He stuttered nervously under Bill's glare.
"So it's your fault she got kicked out of her home?"
"Y...Yes sir."
My uncle turned to Dylan then, completely disregarding Jack now.
"I think I like you more than him then Dylan."
Dylan smiled a bit and shook Bill's outstretched hand. My uncle whispered something along the lines of 'I hope you're the one she loves' before walking back over to me and Billy. By this point, my thoughs were more than a bit confused as I felt the resentment seething from the brothers in front of me. I didn't know how mich longer I could take this.
"Alright then Anna. Why did you come to see me?"
"I needed to ask your advice about these two...but it can wait. I'm going home." I replied, knowing that I had to leave and get as far from them as I could.
"I'll give you a lift." Jack hissed, still angry with everything.
"No Jack. I'm not going to your house. I'm going back to my home."
"But you don't have a home..."
By the time he'd said that, I'd already pulled out my phone and text my dad.
Can I come home? I need to talk to you.
Minutes later, I got his reply.
Okay.
Nothing more, nothing less. But that one word was the most he'd talked to me in a while.
"I'm going." I stated, giving Bill a quick hug and walking out of the door, ignoring Dylan's pleas for me to turn and talk to him, even though it broke my heart.
The next thing I remember is being on the train, watching the fields that once seperated me from my parents flash by the window. I remember the elderly couple that smiled kindly at Billy, asking if it was ok to give him some sweets or something. I agreed, obviously. A few stops later, they got off, leaving us alone in our compartment.
"Mum?" Billy asked quietly, and I looked down to see his face was slowly crumpling and tears were building in his eyes.
"What's wrong Billy?"
"Where's daddy?"
"I don't know Billy. I don't know where your dad went."
And I didn't. That man wasn't the Jack I'd met. I had no idea who he was anymore. Billy nodded and shuffled about on my knee a bit, slowly drifting to sleep as the journey carried on.
A few hours later, we were off the train and in a taxi, a while after that we pulled up outside a very familiar door. And then I'd knocked on it and my dad was stood in front of me. Before I could stop them, tears started to flow freely down my face as he pulled me into a bone shattering hug. When I'd calmed down, I followed him into the house, ignoring my mum's questioning looks as I slumped down into one of the chairs, cradling the sleeping Billy closer to me.
And I'd say we're about halfway through my story Mark. Halfway closer to figuring out yours. You know, I try to hate you so much, but I can't. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot even think about hating you. Why were you so darn likeable? I could be normal right now, go along with everyone else and wish you were dead, but I guess that's another thing that makes me like you. I'm not normal, and I never will be.
Love from
Anna
