Aug 15, 2008

The Great Love Story: Part 2

Slamming her room door shut, Mitch threw herself on her bed, and anxiously opened the letter that simply addressed, To Mitch. Written on an A4 foolscap paper, there’s nothing special about the letter, except the content of it. Holding the dear handwritten letter close to her heart, she wiped the tears that had fallen down and started to read it.

Dear Mitch,

Are you shocked seeing Abel? He looks exactly like me didn’t he? Did you called out my name when you saw him? I think I can imagine seeing your stunned face when he responded. You thought I had risen from the grave, didn’t you? Ha-ha! You still as silly as you were back then, aren’t you? I’m not Lestat you know, even though I tried hard to convince you that I’m a vampire. You don’t really believe that, right? You’re not that stupid, or do you?

Stupid Cain. Dead and still joking. And he knew exactly how I reacted. How I wish to kick his sorry ass, or even stomped on his grave. Grumbling, Mitch continued reading the letter.

It’s been four years since my death. I’m sure what was left of my body at this time are just my bones and teeth. Other parts had gone back to earth, as a part of the big life cycle. My deeds are being judged I’m sure, though I’m not sure how I fared in that part. A lot had happened to me in four years, I think. What about you?

Let me guess. During the first year, you were drowning in depression. You refused to eat, or leave your room. You sealed off all the windows, and painted your room black. You cried until there’s no more tears left of you. Thousands of “things” were written for me, expressing how much you missed me. You tried to kill yourself, but you don’t have the heart to let your family cleaned up the mess.

Or not.

What happened actually was the exact opposite. Instead of being depressed, Mitch pushed herself harder. She smiled more, and lived a “normal” life. Extra lessons were taken; she busied herself with clubs and student body. Projects were done; it was the most productive year of her life. Only one poem was written of Cain. She spoke of him as if he’s still alive. Tears rarely fell, and to her friends, she looked like she’s moving on with her life.

I was kidding about the first year part. I know you are stronger than that. That’s what I respect about you. You can take a beating and get the best out of it. Optimistic is a good thing, you know. Though it doesn’t suit your gloom, doom image. Not that it matters to you anyway, right?

Anyways, it pains me to write this letter to you. Because this shows I know I’m about to die, and that I had lied to you. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to. I just don’t want to see the pained look in your eyes and the tell-tale puffiness of you’ve been crying. Maybe I’m just being a coward, but I hope that you will forgive me. I only love you too much.


There’s never been a day I did not thank God for letting us meet. You were my savior from day one, despite all those things I’ve done to you. Without you I think I would be in really deep shit. Or died too early. You made me picked up the pieces of my life and built a better one. Helping me be a better person without you even knowing it. Not being judgmental. With you, instead of feeling like my whole life was a huge mistake, it had become one interesting adventures with memorable ups and downs. Heck, you even make my junkie days looked fun! I think you’re the only one that can make grey looks beautiful. By the way, I still hate the color yellow, and that bright yellow shirt you bought me? Well, you’re having it dude, it’s that purple torn-out shirt with yellow underlying. What was left of it was too tattered to wear so I hid it at the back of my closet.

Furious, she took off her shirt and checked the yellow fabrics. True to his words, Cain did use the yellow shirt she gave him on his birthday to make that particular outfit of hers. She didn’t know whether to yell at him or to cry, yelling for mutilating the shirt she had given, crying because she never knew he made this t-shirt himself.

And before you started to get teary-eyes, no, I didn’t make the shirt. I designed it but, Kirk was the one making it. It was his idea to put yellow fabric underlying. So kill him, since it’s not my fault.

Now she did let out a frustrated scream.

The letter was all too similar of her relationship with Cain.


raje! said...

ive done reading.
bt in no mood to give critical comment...
gimme time.

all in all awesome try :)

rean said...

thank you.
awesome try, shitty story.
ah well..