Lines // hemmings

Chapter 16

Dear Abby,

I am aware of the shortness of the latest letters and I apologize for that. I hope this letter makes up for all of them. It is not that I don’t enjoy writing to you, because I do. I love writing to you. I have just had a lot on my mind. Sorry if I have worried you, that was not my intentions. I didn’t realize my feelings were that oblivious in my letters. However, I have not been completely honest with you.

I will tell you my story now, or at least some parts of it. If I were to tell you everything, every step of this, every word and action, it would take a day and I don’t have that much paper. I hope you are sitting down and I am sorry in advance. I completely understand if you do not want anything to do with me anymore after reading this, and I will understand if I receive no reply. But I do wish you will read the entire letter because it is important for me that you do. And it will make you understand me better. And hopefully it will give you some answers to all the questions you have asked, and the ones you still have on your mind.

Okay, here it goes.

I used to live together with my mom and my dad and my two brothers, Ben and Jack. We managed, financially, (both my parents are professors at a University) and I had good grades; both A’s and B’s. I would say we were a happy family. We didn’t fight. We didn’t argue. We could talk about everything. I had friends, great friends I may add. I might not have been the most popular guy in school but I was not bullied either. I was happy with everything and I had a good life.

That was until a little over 2 years ago. 

Now, this is kind of when my life story begins, the reason why I am where I am today. And this is when things will change. I thought a lot about how to tell you this. I thought to wait till the very end of this letter to tell you, but I cannot wait that long. You deserve to know, sooner the better. You know my roommate, Ashton? Well, we are not regular roommates. Not the kind of roommate you are thinking of. 

We are cell buddies.

Cell buddies as in, we are sharing the same cell in jail.

Yes, I am in jail. There I said it.

I am sorry. I truly am for not having told you. It has been quite hard for me to do so. I just didn’t know how exactly to tell you. I have been trying to but it has never been the right time. But I am ready now. And I will give you more answers if you want.

So, let me tell you how I got here.

A couple of friends and I went out one night. What was so special about this night? Well, it was my 18th birthday to be exact and the boys and I decided we might as well celebrate it. So we went to a club. I am not going to mention any names because you may or may not know them and I do not want to point them out (plus they are checking most of the letters here so it will put me in trouble if I actually did say anything inappropriate).

So we drank and laughed and danced and some words were being thrown and suddenly we are out in the alley; me, my friends and a few other guys around our age. We are still laughing but then I feel a fist connect to my jaw and that is when it pretty much goes black for me. Next thing I know, there are blue and white lights coming from the street, people are shouting for us to get out of there. I hear footsteps and more shouts. Then a heavy body moves on top of me, pins me down to the ground and start yelling stuff. It was a cop. And as I look around I see blood and a body that isn’t moving right in front of me. That is when I throw up and everything goes dark again.

Abby, I cannot go into detail what exactly happened because I cannot remember everything and the things I do remember, I cannot tell you because of various reasons. But I can tell you that I afterwards was taken into custody and I was being questioned a million times but they already seemed to have made up their minds because not long after that I was brought here, where I am today. 

This was a long letter. But I am glad you have taken your time and read this far. Remember when I told you ‘I wish we would have met under other circumstances’? I really meant it. I still mean it. And I hope it makes sense now.

And I’m sorry.

About the whole ‘you’re my line’-thing?

Imagine a line.

You can draw a line and say: ‘This is it. I am not taking another step.’ That is a sad line. It means something is over. There are also bad lines. You are not supposed to cross that line. You can say everyone who’s locked up in this building, somehow, in some way, crossed that line. Of course there are telephone lines, online, clothing lines and such stuff. But please try and ignore them. They are not important. 

What is important is the good lines. Which you are. You are a good line.

Good lines are lines that you keep on following because at the end of them, if there is an end, something good awaits. Good lines are lines that makes you want to be good. And Abby, you are my line.

You are the reason I am still holding on and actually see a light in the future. You give me hope. You are the line I follow and I may never reach the end of it. I may never reach the end where you await, but I do not mind as long as I know you are at the end of it. As long as I know you are still out there.

I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me. And I am sorry for not telling the truth in the first place. I really am. But here it is and I am glad you have read all of it. And now I just hope the guards will let this message through.

Love, 

                      Luke.

-

Ah shiiiiiiiet he told her :O

Be honest with me now, what did you think he did to end up in jail, before you read this letter? Rob a bank? Arson? Kill a guy (oh)? Breaking and entering? Alien smuggling (idk wtf this came up when I googled for crimes)?

Don't forget to vote and comment. I lub you guise.