Do We All Sin?

Part 4

Everyone said he didn't even make it home. Some said he killed himself, others that his heart gave in or that he fell and died from the injury. All agreed though that our betrayal was the mastermind of his death. I used to believe he deserved his fate - he used and abused you after all - but the truth is that his ending was when he found us. We abandoned our lives after that. I lost my faith and credibility; you lived in solitude, away from human sight. They called you a witch, always in a black dress, living with the little you had left.

I always felt sorry, then and now, but I was always a coward, afraid to live my life, afraid to apologise. I chose to forget what couldn't be forgotten. I chose to hide from you and I only visit you now because I can't see you anymore from inside your humble grave.

The postman found you dead. He became suspicious when he couldn't hand you my letters anymore, my anonymous letters. I'm sure you always wondered who was the benevolent soul. He warned the village to what might have occurred and many years after the local priest told me as he heard our story. He thought I could redeem myself. Sorry. For you I returned now that I don't have much time left, hoping that I can meet you once more, hoping you're waiting for me somewhere, hoping you forgive me so I can forgive myself and so you know there is still time for us, wherever it may be.