15 "A letter to the future"

I carried the box, my hands felt like they'd slip any second.

Hayes walked a few feet away from me.

Amelie walked back the two of us, the three of us were silent.

I wondered, what was on their mind.

I stared at the wall. Blood running down my chin, my lip bleeding.

He crossed his arms.

"You deserved it. I hope you learn." He leaned by the wall, he held a knife.

"Fuck off, Felix." I was pissed off, I mean I literally just got punched in the face.

His lip was also bleeding. He didn't get much of a punch from me, but I hate him for doing so.

"You're looking for pity, huh? I ain't giving you any. You punched me first, and I defended myself." I scoffed, and he rolled his eyes.

Let me just quickly explain.

Me and Felix got in a fight. It resulted in us hurting each other.

Reason? I don't know.

He deserved it. But then so did I.

We stood in silence.

"I apologi- We both started saying the same thing at the same thing, but shut up.

A second of silence passed. It felt so long.

"I apologize." He said, wiping off his lip, the blood smearing onto his hand.

"I do too. It was.. Immature of us." I sighed, he nodded in agreement.

"It was, agreed." He sat down on the table.

"Be careful, it's old and fragile as shit. I'm not responsible for you breaking your neck." I was focused on tying my laces together.

"Are you still sour over the punch?" He asked, I finished, looking back up.

"I mean of course, you almost broke my nose." I frowned.

"No, I did not. Stop exaggerating shit." He leaned by the door frame, the bloody tips of his fingers wrapped around the handle.

Silence stood in between us.

"I found something. I'm not sure what it is, but it seemed to be adressed to- You." I looked up at him, my eyebrow raised.

"Me? Who would write things to me?" I rose an eyebrow.

"Apprently someone." He shrugged.

"Well, if so, could I please see it?" I smiled, and he pulled out a nicely folded letter out of his pocket, and I grabbed it.

"Here." He handed me a butter knife, it had a tint of rust on it, but it worked just as fine.

"Thanks!" I took it, sliding it through the envelope label.

I looked down at it.

Unknown POV:

I wiped the blood off. The letter was important to deliver to you. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered.

"I knew you'd reach the goal. The subject of time, being, and all sort of scientific shit I could never explain.

I think you'd do good as a replacement. My original plan was to make it there by myself, but.

It failed.

I was going to die.

But even if I'm still alive, I'm not sure where I could even reach you.

How I can reach you. The clock is ticking, my life is on the line. It should and could stop any moment. But as long as I know you'll receive this letter, I can rest easy.

I wish I could tell you the actual truth. The reality I've known since the accident. I lived theough the days that hopeless through, but this thing saved me.

You - saved me. And I'm more than grateful for so. There's things to be kept silent about. I didn't do anything about the incident, nor the clan. I wasn't part of it. I didn't want to hurt you. I cared for you. I cared for clarying and showing the truth. And I cared for you too. I wish it wasn't my fault, I wish I tagged along. But I apologize, I can't.

Take care. A letter to the future, it is then. A letter at least leading to your bright future.

Farewell, I wish you the best.

- A.

Alexander's POV:

A? Who is A? Is it really adressed to me? The clan? The Freaks Clan is the one they're talking about? It's not Carter, right? Carter must've been involved, I just feel it.

I know it. He would be stupid enough to do so.

"You look pale. You good?" He crossed his arms, leaning by the wall.

"Hm? Yeah- I'm- I'm fine." I cleared my throat, leaning back to the wall.

“Well. We need to continue our work. We’re both at the kitchen, eh?” He sighed, and I slid off the bed, and put on my jacket. It was getting colder. Every night was getting colder and colder with each day.

We both stood on opposite sides of the kitchen and table, I was just fixing up my gloves and mask, to not get something into the food. I picked up a basket of potatoes that were quite big and started to get the peel off, and cutting them into small pieces.

I put them into a baking form, sprinkling on Salt, Pepper, Dried Paprika flakes, dried Rosemary and a couple of other spices.

“Where did you learn all this? Emmie said only plain baked potatoes with salt and pepper. You could ruin the food, you dumb fuck.” He crossed his arms, I looked up, putting down the salt.

“My mother, why?” I grabbed the form, opening the oven, and stuffing it in. For a big and old shithole like this, they still found ways how to use electricity.

He just watched me, he kept silent.

“Tell Emmie I had nothing to do with that meal you’re preparing. I’m not getting myself hurt because of your mistake, no no.” He turned his back on me, and I closed the oven, and turning on the small a little out-of-tune alarm clock.

“Of course, your highness.” I rolled my eyes.

I got up, leaning by my hands on the counter. I closed my eyes.

Everytime I closed my eyes the guilt came over and hit me like a train. All the people who died because I couldn’t help them. My mom, Veri. Everyone else. Because I couldn’t be there and help them.

And I’m here, closing my eyes. It feels selfish to. After all that suffering and pain I’ve maybe caused others, it feels guilty to close my eyes. But I knew at least maybe I let them go easy.

Because after all that happened, they died smiling. Smiling to me and telling me it’s going to be okay.

Ouch. That hurt more than I imagined. Everything hurts more than I imagined. The words that get unspoken are always the one that are the loudest and clear.

I got no friends. I got no family. I got no one in here. And the lonely feeling creeps it’s way in slowly, taking my breath away like a swimming competition. More like a “Who drowns in the hopelessness first” kind of competition.

I’ve never hated the feeling of loneliness as much as I do now. It’s crazy how much it actually stabs you in the back once it has even a single opening.

She tapped my shoulder.

I turned, she held a bag, it was a paperbag, it looked poorly glued and had some glitter scattered on it here and there.

“Eh?-” I looked down at it, confused.

“For you- Pretty boy!” She giggled, handing me it, her little fingers letting go of the paper, dropping it into my palms.

She ran away, giggling.

I looked at it. “For pretty boy”. It had that scribbled on the side, and I smiled.

“So Emmie’s kid has a crush on you? Or should I call you.. Pretty boy?” He leaned by the doorframe.

“Wait. That’s Emmie’s kid?” I looked up at him.

“Yeah. It is.” He drank up the tea.

“Holy- I thought she was like 20.” I brushed the dust off my knee.

“She’s actually 32. Fridrick is her dad.” He rubbed his eyes, he looked tired.

“Oh. I see-” I guess I got fooled by Emmie’s age. She looked not older than 25.

Emmie knocked on the door frame.

“I apologize for my daughter. She just ran off.” She gave a slight chuckle, we both turned as she started talking.

“It is completely fine. She’s still a kid, you cannot blame a child.” Hayes threw in a quick smile, he had his mask off.

“I guess you really cannot.” She smiled, she walked off.

The window let in some sunlight into the shallow but warm room. I glanced around. It felt like the time stopped.

The warmth created not by the food, but by the people. It’s like it’s finally peaceful. Like I actually can rest.

I glanced up, there was a window, covering a hole.

I love you everyone. And I’ll bring you along to the future we’ve all longed for so long