My most beloved, my dearest, Morrigan,
I was cruel to you again, and it pained me to see how desperate you were for me to break my silence, but please believe me when I say I am not scared of you. Not at all. I am scared for you, because I know your life will start to change drastically, and I will not be able to spend that time alongside you. I was worried that all efforts for you to live a normal life would have gone to waste, but today, I crossed the line. And yet, you still smiled at me. When I was stern with you, you’d still wake up at the crack of dawn to pick up my medicine, you’d give your food to those that needed it even if that meant you’d starve, and you’d remember my birthday… even though I’d forgotten all about celebrating it long ago. You’d do that for anybody.
Before you came into my life, I was a lost soul racked with the burden of my past. But I found a purpose when you came into it. You taught me so much about how beautiful life is and that I could love and heal. So… I believe in you. And I believe in your love for the world and your trust in it, too. I am infinitely proud of all you have done, and I am confident your mother would say the same. I love you more than I can put into words, and that will be my downfall before death takes me. One day I will explain everything to you, when I am strong enough. Because I know you will do everything in your power to make me better, and I will never be able to repay you.
I have been incapable of showing how much I love you. Your letters, I cherish every single one of them, and I will continue to read them. I have kept every single one, and I reread them as a reminder of how much love you have despite all you’ve been through. Ever since you were born I have written to you, and I will for the rest of eternity, no matter where I am. I am too much of a coward to give you this letter, because I’m not a good person. You taught me I could move on and love, but I could never plague such beautiful letters with my response. I do not know when I will be able to give you this letter, but I will give it to you from my very hand one day, because what I fear most is never being able to explain how much I love you. Someday, I will be brave enough to give you all my letters. Please believe me when I say that the happiest moments in my life were the ones I spent with you. Take care of yourself, okay? Morrigan, I’m always thankful. And I am so sorry.
I will write to you again.
With all my love,
Your Dad, James
Her dad. The dad that would paint murals on her bedroom door anytime he got a new paint sample from work. The dad that held her sobbing against his chest when her mom was taken long after the sun had set. The dad who promised to see her grow old and wear a light blue dress at her wedding. The dad who didn’t know how to love himself enough to give his letters to Morrigan. Her Dad.
Morrigan screamed. She screamed so loud she couldn’t hear herself anymore and could only feel Juro holding her and the way her nose burned and her throat closed to try and suffocate her and the way her heart hurt, and it hurt so bad she gripped her chest as hard as she could, digging her nails so far into her skin to try and hurt herself more than whatever this agony was, to try and rip her heart out and toss it in front of herself, to stop the pain that seemed to radiate out and consume her because nothing had ever hurt Morrigan so much before.
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I will write to you again.
Morrigan’s tears poured down from her face like carousel horses that had finally broken free, and they battered the letter, the ink bleeding out with each fat drop. Morrigan’s breathing cascaded as she tried to wipe the drops with her spasming hands, the hands so badly burned that any of her father’s lingering touch was ash under her fingernails, but the ink droplets still expanded throughout the paper fibers despite her desperate attempts. Her lower lip violently trembled as she stared at the letter in her hands, Juro whispering that it was ok and to breathe. Her now-burnt short hair was coarse as it rubbed into her neck, too short to ever be tied back into a messy bun by her dad, by anybody. So she screamed her smoggy, charred throat raw and clutched the dirty letter against her chest, because she knew every second she held it meant her dad’s love would bleed out of it, but if she let go she’d never be able to look at it again. Until finally, she remembered Juro’s touch on her bare skin and the hatred reeled so much inside her that she crawled away from him, sobbing as she stared into his green eyes illuminated by the inferno.
“How could you…,” sobs racked through her entire body as she choked out the words, “how could anyone do this to me.” She buried her face into one hand while she still held the other one against her heart as if it would bandage her pain. “I’ve never done anything to hurt someone. Why me?”
Juro was clenching his jaw so hard it was sore, and he wanted so desperately to reach out to her and comfort her but held back. “I’m so sorry, Morr. When he got worse, he needed help storing the letters in his study. I never thought you’d find out this way.”
She shouted at him, her voice raw and shrill now as she tried to stumble back onto her feet. “You knew! You knew how much it hurt me! Everytime he never responded to me, and you still…” she trailed off as she dug the side of her palm into her tightly shut eyes, another cry convulsing through her body. “Nobody. Nobody, nobody, nobody. There’s nobody I can trust anymore. I’ve worked so hard… so hard to help him. He was my entire life. He gave me a purpose to live, and now he’s gone.” She couldn’t even bear to look at Juro. Morrigan knew it wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t the one that reported her and never would, but she wanted someone to blame, to share the gnawing pain in her chest and the hatred that seeped through her words.
“I’m sorry Morr, I truly am. I promise you that I will explain everything and that you will get through this, but we have to leave,” he pleaded, his anxious eyes and desperate voice urging her to get up. Nothing pained Juro more than to see Morrigan so broken in front of him, but he knew they had to get a move on or they’d be arrested. He could hear sirens quickly approaching, and no ambulance or police would ever come out here. Not for them.
He stepped towards Morrigan and offered her a hand, and she swatted away his arms before glaring at him, her head tilted down. “Don’t touch me,” she spat, “I don’t want to hurt you.” She paused for a moment, now staring at the fire that engulfed her home and farm. Dad always wanted her to live a happy and fulfilling life, one that relied on her love and trust of the world. She was going to live out that fantasy.
“Juro, I’m going to live out my life the way my Dad wanted. I’ll get a stable job and live in a humble home,” she whispered, something more sinister seeming to lurk in her cold eyes, “but first… I’m going to get even with the people who did this.”
Juro looked at her as she shakily stood up on her two feet, carefully folding the letter into her pocket. Anxiety coursed through him at her ominous words; the young girl he grew up with, the young woman he just gave a crane to this morning, seemed to die right in front of him, reborn as the infernos flames licked the sky behind her.
“No,” she suddenly declared. She had stopped crying now, and she held her chin high with her shoulders squared. “I’ll do a lot more than get even.”