Dear Mark,
Nothing much has happened since I last wrote. I guess it's the same for you. Life's boring. Thought I'd just point that out. How would you describe boring to someone who didn't know it's meaning? The opposite of fun? But then, what would you say if they didn't know what fun was? I guess it'd be like describing green to someone who'd never seen any colours, pratically impossible. But then, apparently nothing's impossible. I don't get that. Of course some things are. It's impossible for me or you to ever live a happy life again. That's been out of the question for a long time now. We don't live. We survive.
So now I was at my parent's house, and I wish I could tell you everything was running smoothly, but I think you'd know I was lying. I've already told you I don't get on well with them. Although you may not remember that, I don't know what your mental state is right now. But there you go, I guess I just reminded you. So as I said, nothing was running smoothly at all. Arguments took place left, right and centre. Who ate the last slice of bread, who didn't close the fridge door properly, we even once had an argument about who rubbed the carpet the wrong way. I mean, come on. What's so bad about having abit of carpet darker than the rest? And it wasn't exactly hard to sort out, was it? Just smooth it back the right way again! Sorry, it still frustrates me sometimes.
Surprisingly though, my dad was ok with me, it was mainly mum who started all the fights. Mainly by picking on me first, calling me worthless and other things like that. But to be honest, it didn't really bother me, I was too busy trying to sneak Billy some food because she refused to feed him. She said I'd better be grateful she'd even let him stay in the house. But whenever she went out, dad would get him to eat as much as possible. He isn't really all that bad now that I think about it. He just fell in love with the wrong woman. Just like I fell in love with the wrong man. I guess I take after him.
You're probably wanting to ask why I stayed there if my mum was giving us both so much trouble. Well, I guess it was because for once, I felt safe. I knew that neither of them would think I'd gone here, and even if they did, they didn't know where my parents lived. So I knew I'd be ok. I could take as long as I needed to think this through. I just needed to make a plan. Sounds simple right? Wrong. Nothing in life is ever as simple as it sounds. Cutting a sandwich in half? Easy! No. It's never exactly in half is it. There's always one side wider than the other. Not that easy then, is it? That was an awful example, but you get the point, right?
So anyway, it turned out I was awful at making plans, and there was no way on earth I'd ever be able to come up with one. So I did what anyone else would do, I asked Jeeves. No, that was a joke. I admit, that was a horrible attempt at a joke, but come on, lighten up man. Laugh a little. Yes, I actually just asked my dad. He wasn't that helpful. I think he was asleep when I asked him. Well...I know he was asleep. I didn't have the nerve to ask him when he was awake. Maybe that wasn't so great an idea after all...huh. Next time I'll ask him, before I turn to someone else. I'm sure he'd have come up with something. Better than what I came up with. Basically, I went back to Dylan's house.
So once again, I found myself stood in front of his door, the paint peeling by now, it really needed another coat. It had been fixed, along with the windows, by the time I'd gotten back from my parent's. I raised my fist slowly, pondering for a while. Would Jack be there? Would Dylan even be in? I figured I'd only find out if I knocked, so that's what I did. Nothing happened, so I knocked on it again. I could hear someone shuffling behind it, but the door didn't open. I sighed, turning around and beginning to walk down the path when I heard the door crack open.
"Anna?"
Slowly, I turned my head back towards the door, seeing a very tired Dylan staring at me.
"Umm...Hey!" I smiled, a bit to cheery, "I didn't mean to wake you or anthing...I'll go now so you can get some sleep."
"No Anna, don't go. You can stay here for the night."
"I can't though. I don't know if Jack is in there, and I don't want to get you in more trouble."
"Please Anna." He pratically begged. Sighing, I slowly walked up to him.
"Alright then."
As soon as I was in the hallway, I heard the lock click shut behind me, but I just thought it was Dylan making sure Jack wouldn't be able to get in if he showed up.
We were both slouched on the sofa when the other man walked in.
"Dylan, what the hell?" I hissed.
"I'm sorry Anna, he wouldn't leave me alone until he had seen you." He sobbed into his hands. You probably think it was Jack that walked in, but no Mark, it was worse. It was my brother. I should probably explain. First of all, it doesn't really matter what his name is. He's on the run from the law aswell, so if anyone knew his name, they'd know who it was writing these letters, and I don't want that. Basically, my brother was always everyone's favourite. He's five years older than me, so I didn't really get any attention as a child, everyone was too busy being proud of him and trying to make him the smartest kid on the planet or something. He threw all of that away at college though, by getting a girlfriend. Apparently, my mum had told him no girlfriends until he had a proper job, but he didn't listen. So naturally, my mum threw him away aswell, metaphorically speaking, of course. For some reason, we'd always hated each other, and I hadn't seen him since I was 11 years old, so I think you can see why I was so...surprised I guess.
"Anna, long time no see." He'd laughed, walking over and attempting to give me a hug of some sorts.
"You." I spat back. I was surprised to see how hurt he looked.
"What have I done wrong? I came to see you specially, I left Jenna at home alone to come here."
Jenna. The girl who he'd met at college. In all fairness, she wasn't that bad, it was just him I hated.
"I haven't seen you in years and you just suddenly show up? What do you want?"
"Jack got in touch with me..."
"You talked to Jack?!" I screeched, the shock finally registering on his face, "Oh, I get it. He sent you to finish us all off, didn't he?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He stuttered, and I did believe him a bit.
"Then why are you here?"
"He wanted me to tell you he's sorry for kicking off, and that he understands you went to Dylan's just to get away from him. He really is sorry Anna. Please just go back to him."
I shook my head and tried to get back to the front door, dodging under both his and Dylan's arms. I pulled on the door handle before remembering it was locked.
"Let me out." I demanded as they both came around the corner, "I need to get back to Billy."
"About that Anna..." He muttered, guilty tears sliding down his face. I looked out of the window just in time to see someone driving my car away, Billy still fast asleep in his chair.
So there you go Mark. That was the next bit of my story. Obviously you know Billy was ok, otherwise he wouldn't be drawing next to me right now, would he? But lets pretend you don't know that next time, alright? I usually start ranting at you around this point in the letter, but for once I'm going to say thank you.There was a programme on today, a kind of memorial for Danny and Glen. I wonder if they made you watch it. Tied you to a chair and put you in front of a TV, making sure you listened to every word of hate their families and friends sent your way.
I admit, some of them put in some quite graphic details when asked what they'd do if they saw you again. If I was scared of them, imagine how you'd have felt. Let's hope they never allow you to have visitors, hey? Well, at least it'd mean the world got rid of you. The waste of space as one of Glen's friends called you, just with a lot stronger language. But I'm just as bad as you, so I guess I shouldn't agree with these things. Anyway, I'll write to you soon.
Anna.
