DEAR YOU [Part 1]

Chapter 13

JACK

“Hi.

I am so glad you responded. Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone to engage in this but now that you have, let me introduce myself.

You can call me Sour. I know that what I have started and you have responded to is not a normal or even remotely safe thing so its better if we set some ground rules. Firstly, there will be no exchange of information between us. This letter is addressed to a PO box so no way of tracking me down anymore and please no funny business.

Now, Who am I. I am a seventeen year old kid. I live with my mom and my thirteen year old sister, my dad died almost a year back. Honestly, I loved my dad. I loved everything about him and when he went away, it felt as if he took a piece of me with him. Ever since then, I have been felt a calling, like my dad is yearning for me. I just want to join him so that I can finally feel whole.

So, a few months back I decided to do it. It started when I stopped finding pleasure in things, when I finally accepted the fact that its time to give up and rest. People said that I was just asking for attention so I stopped, I stopped telling people how I felt and stopped feeling at all. I stepped into the water and decided never to come out.

Unfortunately, my sister found me. She screamed and cried and for that, I can never forgive myself. It was then that I decided to maybe try and be there for her, if not for anyone else. Its been almost six months now and even after trying so hard, I couldn’t. I couldn’t talk to any of my friends or family because my mom thought that it was just my way of asking for attention and she forgot all about it but I cant.

Finally I decided to do this, to seek help from people I don’t know. This is it. This is me. Everything you need to know. I hope you write back more.

Anonymously,

Sour.”

The letter has been sitting on my desk for two days now. Everytime I read the letter, it broke me down. The amount of pain this kid had to suffer from, it made me sob.

It was a breezy evening, I walked around the garden and looked at the people around me. There is not much to do when you are seventy years old. It is usually when you retire and finally start living the life you have worked so continuously for but not for me.

The house had caught the empty nest aura already. Florence and I never talked anymore now that the reality was out in the open. There was nothing to talk about, she could not change the way she feels about me and I can not bring myself to confront her so everynight, we sit in silence and have dinner. Then, I go out for a walk and when I come back, she will already be asleep.

It is at these times that I realize how differently I could have handled things, how easily I could have said the right things and made a difference. I provided my kids with every comfort of the world, always told them stories of how I respected my dad after he died but it is only now that I realize that that is all they will ever do. Respect me, I was so busy telling them to respect and fear me that in between all this, I forgot if they would ever miss me because I don’t miss my father.

This kid, it came as if a second chance to me. If I could do this all over again, really be there for a kid. I couldn’t let this go.

I opened my computer and searched about emotionally fragile kids and suicide prevention and everything I needed. After a lot of research, I finally picked up my pen and started writing.

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