Dearest Lisa
Day 1
Dearest Lisa,
Every time I see the red roses in our garden, I faint, they remind me of your blood.
I cannot cope with your death. Who could have killed you? The thought of your killer being out there terrifies me. One day had passed since you were killed and I still cannot find the courage to go outside. I can still see the blood every time I close my eyes. I write to you everyday to try and fill the hole inside me that your death has created. But when I realise that you will never read those letters, the hole feels bigger. The worst is not remembering what happened before you died. All I remember is blood.
Day 2
Dearest Lisa,
Today, I heard the bells from the church for the first time since your death. They sounded awfully a lot like your screams.
I can remember those screams. Screams and then blood, how could I forget them? How could have I forgotten them in the first place? Two days have passed since I last left the house, since you were brutally murdered. If I go outside, I’m afraid that I will never have to courage to come back in, to a place where you will never return.
Day 3
Dearest Lisa,
Your hair has the same colour as the ground. The ground which you are buried under.
I’m starting to go insane, I haven’t left the house in three days. I remember running in the garden, I remember the rage and the mud. The running, the screams the blood and then nothing. Still nothing. That is what is driving me insane. The not knowing.
Day 4
Dearest Lisa,
“Why do the best people always die?” “If you were in a garden, what flowers would you pick?” “The most beautiful ones” “Exactly”. I thought that had been our last conversation, apparently I was wrong.
I remember talking to you, but I can’t remember about what, then I remember running, then the screams and then the blood. I can’t make sense of these memories and I’m starting to feel like a prisoner in my own house and I know that I’m slowly losing my mind.
Day 5
Dearest Lisa,
The sky has the same colour as your eyes that are now still with death.
I remember the rain on that day. The talking, the rain, the running, the screams and the blood. Who was chasing us? The house is a constant reminder of your death, I cannot be at peace here but if I leave I will never remember. It feels like you have been dead for years but it’s only been five days.
Day 6
Dearest Lisa,
Every time I look into the mirror I cannot recognise myself, I look less like a man and more like a monster.
I remember what we were talking about. But we weren’t talking we were arguing, about the past, about me. But I still cannot remember the killer. The minutes go by slowly and the hours even more slowly.
Day 7
Dearest Lisa,
Can you ever forgive me?
I remember, I wish I couldn’t but I do. Forgive me Lisa, for what I have done to you. Forgive me for what I am about to do now, but I cannot live knowing that I was the one responsible for your death. My life ends here, I deserve it but you didn’t. Dearest Lisa, forgive me.