she made me find myself.
she cracked me out of my shell
so i could experience things better.
she never fails to listen,
never fails to make me laugh
and never fails to share with me.
she always makes me comfortable.
she can trust that i’m always there.
she is one of the best things to me.
she’s the one i’ll never let go of
Free Write Friday Prompt~
You wake to find yourself in a strange house and you cannot remember your own name. You roll over and see a letter by the bed. Is it for you? Who is it from? What does it say? Does it explain where you are and why?
Rolling over, I breathe in deeply. I’m comfortable but I can’t think of what on earth I’m doing here. Why I’m laying in this somewhat chilly room that is void of any sort of decoration. The only thing I notice is an envelope. I cautiously test out my fingers’ strength as I pick it up, flip open the flap and pull out a sheet of paper. This is what it says.
You are free now. You may not remember anything but you’ll be that much better for it. You won’t have to worry about me. You won’t have to feel that pain anymore. The doctors took care of that. Unfortunately, I can’t handle the pain anymore. That’s why you are free. Free to live a new life. Not many people get second chances, but you do. You will look different. That was part of the deal. Memory wiped and different appearance. Now they won’t find you and neither will I. It’s better this way. I can’t risk you being found. Farewell, my love. Perhaps we’ll meet in another life.
<
A tear has leaked out of my eye so I wipe it away, unsure of what I should be thinking. I know that sideways V is incomplete, that there should be a 3 next to it. I may not know my name, who wrote this or why anyone would be looking for me in the first place… this one thing I do know.
Somewhere by someone, I’m loved.
Here’s your cut.
See you in Mexico.
Dust had gathered
on top of this box
for so many years.
How long had
all this money
been waiting here?
My fingers slip
over the stack…
hundreds upon hundreds.
It had been a running
joke among family
that dad swindled the feds.
My father, did he
have an accomplice–
someone he left this for?
I’m the only one
left who’s around
so my heart turns sore.
They hunted us down
one by every single one
but I’m the one to survive.
This house – not a home –
holds many secrets
even after they died.
I returned only
to find the will
and yet here’s a note
with this money,
unused and forgotten,
because this is what I know…
There’s no one waiting in Mexico.