03/08/1965
Dear Jaren, my soulmate,
Is there even a point in writing this? There are no words to explain how sorry I am. I knew hiding out was hurting you, but I didn't know that we would reconvene for so little time. The way your eyes lit up when you saw me was beautiful. Now I'll never be able to see that again. I'll only see the lifelessness in your eyes as they shot you in the back over and over with no hesitation. The guilt will live with me forever.
Your death is all my fault. I hid from the FBI for a year and a half because I wanted them to really think they'd killed me, but now they've gone and killed you for real. The march from Selma to Montgomery shouldn't have been that violent; I should have known better than to assume.
I'm so, so sorry, Jaren, my love. You moved mountains for me and I got you killed. Eric would have died, too, if Matt hadn't pulled him away from your body. What do I even do with this letter? There's nowhere to send it, unless Heaven has a mailbox.
I love you, Jaren Smith. I'm so fucking sorry.
Johnathan
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FIGHT THE WHITE
Fanfiction[A Krii7y Historical Fiction] A series of letters between two lovers, who also happen to be fighters.
