Letters to J

August 24, 2017

August 24, 2017

To,

J,

This will be the last letter I write to you. I am outside your hospital room. I swear my whole body is trembling, I can't decide whether to run away or stay, my nerves are making me jittery. I am waiting for you to wake up and to be summoned. The doctors say you need sleep to recuperate but I'm afraid I don't have that much time anymore. I am here on your father's request to listen to what you have to say.

What do you have to say? From what I can remember, you didn't want to speak to me, hence, the reason why you distanced yourself. You said you didn't want to get too close to me, for my own good. My good? All I ever wanted was you! How naive of me to think I could catch smoke with my bare hands. You were always out of my grasp but I tried. You left people hanging so they would run after you. You loved the attention, the importance you had. But your habit was a facade for something. Something you tried to do your whole life; escape. You are the coward here, for stringing me along, for preying on my true intentions; so if you wake up today and pretend to make it all better, I would simply see through it. You will have to pay the price for your sins. I paid the penance of mine by begging God to save your soul. Now it's your turn to bathe in Holy Water.

If I have dared to come here, I must be given the truth; the whole truth. I want you to make a decision whether you want to see me or you don't.

Last night I made peace with my family; I broke down in front of my dad and told him every single detail about us. Their support was all I needed to reply to the email from NYU. I am moving to NYC in a week and starting anew. So this is a goodbye letter.

Goodbye,

A.

Amelia's P.O.V:-

The door in front of me opens catching me off guard. I put the pen aside and sealed the letter in an envelope. I look up to see Mr. Cunningham nodding towards me, that he is awake. I stack all the letters together and ask him the question burning in my mind all along.

"He doesn't know. I didn't tell him" He informs me with kind reassurance.

"Mr. Cunningham I'm afraid you have to do something for me before I fulfill your request" I ask him without looking him in the eyes.

"What is it, my dear?"

"Give these letters to him. Make him read them all. When he is alone, he'll know what to do. If he calls for me, I'll be here. If he doesn't I'll go on with life as if I never knew him"

He hesitantly takes the letters from my quivering hands and gives me a final nod. I make my way to the cold, deserted chair in an uncomfortable corner and wait, impatiently this time, for I was once again vulnerable in front of him.

I wait and wait. The hours tick by and no one comes out of the room except for the doctors and nurses. As I am ready to walk away, the door creeps open and I see him on a wheel chair with his father behind the wheels. I look at him; really look at him, my beautifully scarred Adonis. He refuses to look at me and that is all the answer I needed.

His father waits for one of us to break the silence but his refusal is evident and I can't waste away anymore. I am human and I have every right to live. I walk over to him and kneel beside him. I take his face into both of my hands so he may look at me. Instead of looking up, he turns away leaving me with no choice but to kiss his forehead goodbye and leave like a defeated ruler. As my lips touch his cold forehead, he inhales a deep breath and shudders run down his body. It feels good to know that I still have an effect over him.

After that I get up and race down the white marbled steps never looking back. I drive my car as far away as possible from the wretched place I once called a home. In a matter of a week I will leave everything I hold dear to me, behind and move forward. The beach, my family, my friends and lastly, the most inexplicably baffling puzzle that is J.