Remember Me Not For The Crimes I Have Commit.

Dear Ms. Forman,

I sit alone in my room. I can’t cope with the outside world, everything is irritating me. Digging into my brain. So I came here.
The world outside is a scary place, there are twists and turns. Dark alleys. Winding paths, that if you go down, you may never come back out of.
Life is like that you know.
The twists, the turns. The horror.

She knows that I needed her, and she promised she’d never leave me. She said she’d love me always and no-one else could replace me in her heart. Part of me, cynical as it may be, doubted her words. But the way she “felt” about me, that’s how I felt about her. But then she had to go and do the deed.
In a way I am glad. Without her betrayal I wouldn’t be able to sit here today writing this letter. Aside from her, Heather, I have nothing. Well, I don’t even have her now it seems.
What I feel inside compares to nothing I have ever felt. It’s like being drunk and angry, but happy at the same time. I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. To sing or to weep.
I know I’ll see her again soon. I will have forgiven her, and hopefully we can stay calm. The winding paths of the world, and of life, collided tonight. It happened at 19:34, in West Street Park, between the koi pond and the Solitary Tree. You’ll know the place.
It’s time to decide what to do. Laugh or cry? Sing or weep?
Live or die?
Heads I live, tails I die.

I have reached the end of my hectic life. The twists and turns have led me to a dead end in the darkest of alley ways.
I killed the girl I loved, I lived for her, and I died because of her. Do not mourn me when I’m gone. Celebrate the fact that I am finally free from the shackles of this world. Remember me not for the crimes I’ve commit. Remember me as the man who had nobody left to love.

Yours Sincerely,
Thomas Nichols.


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