Hello Saul. My name is Frank.
You don't really know me but I know all about you. I sit here in your subconscious waiting for you to become weak or tired. Once you are, I walk in your body and study your friends. I lie next to your naked girlfriend most nights and recall what you have done yet hours earlier. Then I walk and drink and eat, until our shared brain goes numb and until you once more take your body back with confusion. I watch and plan your demise. You see, I blame you.
Do you remember what you buried in the past? What's hidden in the blackest box of the darkest memories? What you deny each day? The abuse. Your father sneaking into your room each night. Telling you to be quiet. The stench of alcohol on his breath as he stripped you bare. As he forced himself upon you. Or should I say us. I was there too. When you cried hours on end, I watched and grew angry trapped in my cage. He whispered lightly in your ear to not tell anybody and you never did, you followed his orders. Each day you let pass, he grew more confident and started to venture to the small room we shared. Though this soon was through lack of alcohol and no longer hidden by the night. If you screamed or shouted, bruises would then cover your body from his powerful fists. This would then result in blades being pushed into your arms from the pain of the images haunting your mind, you blamed yourself, yet you still didn’t stop it. Blood would then flow to the floor. You were convinced no one would believe you. They would say you were lying. I knew this was your entire fault. You provoked him into doing this to us. Making our body unclean. Destroying our lives. Yet I could do nothing. I was trapped. I still mostly am. However, now I can be free, you must die.
I blame you for the past. The abuse carried on for years. From the age of eight to the age of fourteen. Though you didn't stop him. Death did. He would have continued if not hit by that car. Maybe one day it would have stopped, if he was still alive, but I doubt you would have been a factor. Yes, as the years grew the abuse lessened, but it still was not completely gone. However, still after his death you have failed to tell anyone what he did. Even your girlfriend is unaware of the true facts of your past, yet you plan to purpose to her? She doesn't even know you properly. Six years together and all lies. You are now of the age of twenty-nine and still living in denial.
By now I bet your wondering how my freedom was triggered. It was simple. If you recall three months back, you will remember a very tragic incident for you and your beloved. The miscarriage. How a simple romantic gesture ended so badly and it was your fault. That seems to be a reoccurring feature in your life. Everything is your fault. If only you hadn't have blind folded her she wouldn’t have tripped, she wouldn't have landed on the small wooden coffee table in your living room. Her stomach wouldn't have hit its corner. The child wouldn't be lost. All this happened because you wanted to surprise her with a simple meal. After hours in hospital your worst fears were confirmed, as the Doctor's told you she'd lost the child. For once you admitted it was your doing. Your anger consumed you at first as you downed litre after litre of alcohol, crying as you drank. Cider was not strong enough to hide your pain, as you consumed the bottle you swore you’d never touch; Vodka. It was the drink he used to have. What he downed before he’d come find you. The smell that was on his breath. You drunk and drunk. Then you passed out in a state of pure sorrow. That is what finally gave me the power to take control. That is what set me free.
I pity and loath you. I want you dead. It was your fault. You could have stopped him. You could have asked for help. There was no mother to tell as she died in birth, but there could have been others. Yet you let it continue. The punches. The rape. The self harm. The torture. All this now contributes to the reasons I am doing this.
I am going to kill you. It's what you deserve. As you sleep, I will wake. I will set the house alight and let you burn alive. Cleanse you. Purge you. Make you fit for your so called heaven. The fire will devour you. Your skin will melt off your bones. Your hair will singe. You will turn to ash. While this happens I will watch. I will not feel the pain. Only you will.
Also I did consider your girlfriend. I am not a monster after all. I am human. I will provoke a fight with her. She will hate you as I do. She will leave. Then the fire will start. Only you shall die.
You may wonder why I have written this down. This is a just in case, it's just in case you survive. Just in case you live another day. You can understand more of why it happened. Why I did this to you. Though know this: I will not stop. I will carry on until you are dead, until you have paid for what you have done to us. What you have kept hidden from the world in your bubble of safety or as you call it, sanctuary. You shall burn, either by my hand or in hell. You will die eventually; fire isn’t my only means of destruction.
Let the fun start. The match lies in my hand. It's already begun to burn. The kindling is your bed.
