Tom sat at his desk staring intensely at the blank pieces of paper before him. There was so much that needed to be said. The difficulty was finding the right words to express them. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided to write his ex-girlfriend Mary Bates.
Mary Bates had been the only woman Tom had ever loved. She was a smart attractive gal with a thirst for adventure. She enjoyed being out in the world, exploring new places and meeting new people. In large groups, Mary's sense of humor and energetic persona always made her the center of attention.
In contrast, Tom did not enjoy large group gatherings. Large groups made the socially awkward Tom feel small, insignificant… lost. Tom preferred the safety and comfort of his own home.
The relationship began, in part, due to Mary's thinking that in time she could break Tom out of his shell. However, any attempt on her part to change the man seemed to end in failure. It is far better to love a person for who they are, oppose to what you believe they ought to be. She cared for Tom deeply and wished him happiness, but as the relationship progressed, Tom's introverted nature and passiveness began to stifle her.
The relationship ended, causing Tom to descend into a deep depression which he would never recover.
Tom sighed and proceeded to bring pen to paper.
A person can not live without their heart and you took that with you the day you left. I don't blame you and I don't want you to blame your self. You were far too good for me. My only wish for you is that you find a special guy whom can give everything that I simply could not give.
All my love,
Tom set down the pen and gazed up at picture of Mary and himself..
The picture had been taken three months ago, at the Lakeshore County Fair. As he gazed upon the image, vivid memories flashed though his mind.
Mary had dragged him to the Lakeshore County Fair. For Tom, this would normally be equivalent to a walk though hell. Yet, Mary's presence inspired courage which normally would be lacking.
He recalled her words as she coaxed him onto the fair's single roller coaster. He could clearly recollect her words as she dragged him by the arm towards what appeared to him as nothing more than a twenty five foot death trap.
"Please, Tom if you do this for me I swear I'll never ask another thing of you"
"sure, you will" he replied sarcastically
"Fine! Suit yourself. But I didn't come all this way to just eat corn dogs." And with those words, Mary placed herself at the end of the line with the other thrill seekers.
Tom found himself surrounded by strangers. Whatever courage he previously held , now stood in line with her.
As poor Tom entered the cart the feeling of immediate doom threatened to over take him. He envisioned the bolts that held the massive structure together, coming loose and collapsing the man-made monstrosity to the ground. Hurdling both Mary and himself to their bloody end. This feeling of dread escalated as they ascended the first slope. The clanking sounds of the conveyer belt as it made its way to the heavens echoed loudly in Tom's ears, rattling his every nerve. Just then Mary placed her hand on his, unknowingly transferring a small amount of her spirit to him. She told him to raise both hands high in the air as they went down.
While Tom recalled this memory he could feel the wind in his hair and the adrenaline as it pumps though his very veins. Every care in the world vanished, blown away with the wind. For a brief moment as he rode that roller coaster with his arms in the sky, he felt liberated. Tom and Mary went on that roller coaster six more times that day. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he neatly folded the letter, placed it in a envelope and set it aside.
Next, he would write his mother. He consider addressing this letter to both his parents, but writing to each person separately seemed to have a more personal touch.
Tom knew that his Mother would take this worst of all. Any attempt to soften the blow seemed futile. Yet sadly, it was all Tom had left to offer to the woman whom gave so much, and received so little in return. Tom steadied his hand as best as he could. His mother had always considered good hand writing to be essential. He put his pen to paper and wrote.
I'm sorry for the pain I've must of undoubtedly caused you. I want you to know that none of this is your fault. No son ever had a better mother then the one I was blessed with. I am sorry you had to give birth to such a selfish person as myself. But I can simply no longer bear the burden of being myself any longer.
I only ask that you try to understand and find a way to carry on
Again Tom folds the paper, puts it in the envelope and placed it with the letter to Mary
The last letter Tom will write is to his father. His hands turn to fist. Blood rushes to his frowning face, turning his complexion bright red. His eyes see the fists that blacken his young eyes. He sees the belt his father used to bruise his backside with. Harsh words spoken many years ago, are heard loud and clearly. Tom grabs the pen and scribbles these words;
I hate you and have always hated you. When you die, it will as the misable man you have always been. And I will be waiting for you in hell
With those final words, he laid down his pen and stuffed the letter into an envelope before placing it with the others.
Tom reached for his revolver. Without hesitation he placed the barrel in his mouth, he cocked the hammer back and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out like thunder. Time seem to slow down. He could taste the cold steel and feel the pressure of the bullet as it penetrated though his skull, violently jerking his head back. Tom could hear the blood and brain matter splatter against the wall as the bullet exit. He felt intense heat at the back of his head, followed by a coolness that spread though out his whole body as the darkness overtook him.