The love letters of Cell 247 (Complete)

62. The Final Letter (February 14, 2020) I Love You

Dear Maria,

My time has come. I can see death coming, but why does my angel have crooked wings? I guess I know which side this messenger comes from. Do I fear my end, Maria? I don't.

But, I fear that when I die, all my memories of you will perish along with my conscious mind.

My heartbeat is slowly dwindling; I believe this will be my last letter to you.

I love you so much, Maria Ventura; I don't regret having you in my life or heart or laying down my life in your feet as I burn in the fever of my memory of you.

Do I believe that I have loved you the right way? I do, yet some may argue differently. But they are not me, nor are they you. The way I loved you is a whisper; I did my best to let it known but never had the courage to say it a bit louder. So I settled in the shadows, for that is what I am. A shadow who could only watch over you, whenever you find your way toward the darkness. But know this Maria, throughout your life, there was never a time that you trudged destiny's cruelness alone. I have always been there my love.

I cried when you did, and when you bled, I shed mine in unison. Every pain you felt, I felt it a million times over.

If you have any regrets about that night. I want you to let it go. Because I would have done everything to take the fall. There's nothing in this world that will ever stand between my will and your happiness.

That evening, I stayed inside my car, hoping to catch your husband when he left the premises of your house. I waited and waited.

I had no intention to enter your house, given your son was there. I was so glad you asked Valerie to move to a friend's house. It was probably the best thing you could have done.

Is that why he came barging into your house like a madman? Is that why your husband started screaming "Where is your daughter?"

I found it funny how every house in that neighbourhood turned off its lights whenever they heard you and your husband fighting. Didn't they care? Well, maybe they would have if you were like them.

But you were not; you were never allowed to befriend any of your neighbour's wives. Your husband was such a cruel man. If he didn't love you anymore, he should have just ignored you, instead, he made you suffer. Why Maria?

I believe you did everything you could to make him see how much you loved him, but he was blind. As blind as those who were born without sight, for he only understood darkness.

My love, I sat inside that car with a knife in my hand, but when I saw your son running out from your house, face swollen and bleeding-I knew, laying in wait was no longer an option.

Did you know that I knew your son? He was such a nice kid. I spoke with him, one too many times. I promised to watch over him and make sure that he and you were always safe.

He was running with haste, begging for help, but the people around your neighbourhood remained deaf, or should I say, pretended to be deaf. So I had no choice, I ran towards him and hugged him. He looked up at me and begged, "Please protect me."

That was the final draw, Maria; I asked your son to run towards the nearest police station or to any person he might know from the neighbourhood.

After he left, I slowly walked towards your house. I held my knife as firmly as I could. My adrenaline was pumping, eyes focused on the silhouette of your husband that was visible against the sheer curtains.

I stood there a moment longer and decided to enter by the window, but before I could. That's when I saw it.

Maria, it must have been too much, wasn't it? You must have reached your limit. Your pure heart must have been broken into pieces, where compassion failed to mean anything anymore.