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It's a Cold War After All Part 4

By Jessica Bowman
On November 16, 2018

This game has gone on long enough. I’m tired. An eternity of slumber could not make up for the sleep that six years of pain has lost me. Most of my time is almost used up, however. For a moment, Damien, I thought you had stirred but as I turn around I find it is only the fire crackling its way across the wooden beams of the basement.

I do feel sorry for the owners of this building, although it looked rather abandoned to begin with, I presume the bank may lose money upon its destruction. But there is no turning back now.

The minute you violated the only woman who had ever cared for you I began traveling down a dark path. Darker than any I had gone on before. I knew that I was not going to let Daisy forgive you for this. You don’t deserve all the times she prayed for you, or all the times she stayed up late at night weeping silently for fear of bothering me because you were such a sob case.

It wasn’t until the moment we fought though, that I knew of the only way to make sure our sordid tale ends. Until you punched me relentlessly and threw me against the wall I didn’t know it would end here. But as I smashed that antique lamp across your thrashing head, and you stopped moving, I knew that even if I survived...the police would never believe the story that happened here.

I am too tired of running away to let this go on. It’s better that everyone involved in our bereaved misadventures ends up dead. Because it doesn’t matter what happened we are both accomplices to more crimes than I can count now.

At least Daisy will be left out of this. She deserved much more than you ever gave her, brother. She deserved a man who didn’t desert his country. She deserved a simple life in the suburbs as the war ends, with children and a husband who earns his keep. My only lingering hope is that after our demise she can find something like that. Out of all of us, Daisy has the best chance at starting over.

I know I’ve taught her well enough to disappear by the time the bobbies come snooping around our ruins. I trust, even if she never sees this letter or our bodies, that she will know what I meant for her future by destroying ours. You know she was always intuitive like that. Always knowing what we said before we said it. And she always had a strong sense of self-preservation. I admired that in her, Damien. I’m sure you did too.

The best condolence I can give to her right now is to make sure you never enter the picture again.

I had hoped, Damien, that by finding you we could still talk like brothers. After Abe’s death, I felt such burning hatred that the only thing on my mind was ripping you apart. But six years later, Daisy had managed to convince me that we could be a family again if her prayers were answered and if we come to you as we once were.

But prayers don’t get answered, do they? I think I knew that a long time ago, but I was fool enough to let the naivety form in my heart again. In actuality, seeing you tripped up on opium I’m not sure I expected anything less than resistance. But even I never could have thought you would bring us here, to this abandoned house, trick me into letting Daisy alone with you and desecrate her trust.

Know this, Damien, as both of us burn we are preparing for the deepest pit of hell that is opening wide for will be judged an eternity in penance for the atrocities you committed.

But this time, you won’t be alone when you enter the war zone. I couldn’t be there the first time you went off to war, no more than I could change the deformation of my firing arm. If it weren’t for the way we were raised I suppose I could have been a likely candidate for the war. But after your spiral, I’ve come to think I was always meant to be maimed by that firework years before. So that I could be here now to put an end to the monster you’ve become.

Regardless, Damien. The flames are burning now. I feel their heat stronger than ever before. The pen is hot in my hand. It’s time I laid down to rest beside you. With my last written words, I’ve doomed it all to go up in flames. With any luck, our bodies will burn up with the ashes. And this document shall never see the light of day.

            I return now, to pits from whence I came. 

            Father and mother are calling my name.

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