Letters on Fire

Ronald

Ronald took the letter and without reading it he threw it into the blazing fire.
Its unread words were burning their way into his conscience, like a tattoo that would remind him forever of his guilt and loss.

You killed her. Murderer.
Everytime the same text.

There was no need for the fire on this summer night, the room was stiffling, he would let it die as soon as the letter became an inseparable part of the cinders.

Ronald walked across the dimly lit room to the front door. He couldn't stay inside, he would suffocate. He would die of the feeling of guilt and excrutiating pain he felt everytime that one of these letters arrived. There were many of them over the years, but he never got used to them.

The intensity of the feeling of loss was still shocking, it would never change. Even though Ronald knew the exact day when the next letter would arrive and tried to prepare for it, it never helped him to fight the despair when he found it on his front steps.

The letter and one red rose.

Ronald's entire existence shattered to pieces every time he picked the letter up, and he had to start from the beginning all over again.
He would survive a year and then another anonymous letter would kill him inside yet another time.

Ronald walked out of the door, sitting on the steps where the letters kept appearing, year after year, on Rose's birthday.

The stars were so bright, Rose used to love them, he could see all of her favourite constellations. She would be forty today. Ronald missed her so much, he kept suffering all these years without her. His pain, instead of diminishing, seemed to be growing with time, with every one of the cruel letters.

Ronald was accepting them as a form of his neverending punishment. Of course he deserved it. Rose's death was all his fault. He never should have allowed her to drive that night. But she begged him so much that he couldn't refuse. Rose loved driving and she just got her licence. She was so excited, so beautiful driving his car along the old road winding by the edge of the forest.

All the rest he remembered only in confused pieces of half-forgotten visions. A large animal appearing suddenly in the middle of the road. Their car swerving sharply and dangerously. The impact with a tree.

Then darkness. A long time without a light or a sound.

When he woke up, he was in the hospital. They told him he had been there for three weeks, in a coma. They told him Rose was dead.

Ronald would give anything to have died with her.

"Rose." He whispered, hot tears filling his eyes and finding their way down his face, dropping on the red rose in his lap.

Another year of his suffering had passed. Next year yet another letter and a rose would await his return on the front steps of his house instead of a loving wife.
If he managed to live yet another year...

Ronald could hear his phone ringing from inside. He stood up and made his way in, carrying the rose in his hand.
Lily. The name was shining on the screen of his phone in bold lettering, in otherwise complete darkness of the house.

"Hello," he greeted her gloomily, not really in a mood to talk to anyone. "Why are you calling me this time of the night?"

"Sorry," Rose's sister responded, "it's Rose's birthday and I haven't heard from you for some time... I wanted to know what were you up to. Are you ok?"

"Are you? Well, Lily, I'm not. I can't stop thinking about her.
If only I didn't let her drive that night, she would be still here with us now, alive, happy..."

After a moment of thoughtful silence Lily responded, "I know how much you miss her, Ron. I miss her too. It is devastating that she is not with us anymore but it is definitely not your fault. You have punished yourself enough. Now you should start living again, Ron! You should..."

"Lily, I can't. No, please, don't say anymore. I don't want to talk right now," he snapped impatiently.

"Listen, Ronald, do you think that this poor existence you imposed on yourself, this misery of the past twenty years, is what Rose would want for you? Do you believe that knowing how you banished yourself from life and happiness would please her? I was very young when she died and I must admit, I blamed you myself for what had happened that night at the beginning. But I'm not a little girl anymore and I'm telling you, you can't punish yourself forever. What happend won't change, even if we don't like it. Instead of moping around for eternity, why don't you try living for a while? For you and for her.
Just give it a go. Please."

"Lily..." His voice was barely more than a sad and tired whisper.

"No, don't say anything Ron, enough for now. You think it over, take your time. When you feel ready, call me. We could have a coffee somewhere nice and talk, what do you think? We must finally find out who sends you those appaling letters and stop them. I can't believe you have never done anything about them, they are so cruel and unfair.
Call me. I'll wait. Good night, Ron."

She hung up without waiting for his answer.

Ronald put the phone down with a hint of a rare smile on his lips. Lily could be so stubborn sometimes...
Maybe, only maybe she is was right.

"Thanks, Lily," he muttered to himself, filling a glass bottle with some cool water for the red rose he was still holding.