Risk ☣ m.c

ix

             Dear Erin,                    25.12.15

You've probably already have seen, but my father lost it, quite literally. He is in jail now. Dad left to go back to Sydney because he got fired from his job here. My dad went psychotic, he went on rampage with a rifle, I didn't know he had. I had lived with him for twenty years and had no clue that he had a gun on premises. He shot twelve people, one of them your own father. I am really sorry. Your father is in the hospital and seems okay, but I can't help but be sorry. I'm sorry about your father, I'm sorry that it was my father who done that.

I guess we all lose it eventually.

I can't help but feel like its my fault. Mum says I blame everything on myself and that I need to stop. The thing is I can't stop blaming myself. Partially because I have every right to blame myself. I could of stopped my dad, I could of stopped you, but I didn't and I kick myself everyday because of it. I should of done many things, if I had then things could be right. Its all my fault. It's my fault you are gone, it's my fault my dad went nuts, it's my fault your dad got shot, it's my fault my parents divorced, it's my fault that I am as fucked up as I am right now. It's my fault, nobody else's.

I now have another reason to hate Christmas. I still hate you.

Love from,

                 Michael Clifford