1 Dear Lucas,

I don't know when you're going to read this, hopefully you're grown up by then, but in case you were wondering why I had to leave you so early in your life, maybe this will give you some explanation. I am not trying to defend myself here and I am fully aware that nothing can make up for those years we have lost. You should rather see this as my last words to you.

You probably will remember the 27.07.1927 or people will tell you about this date. I don't know how authorities are going to explain this incident but it was probably a serial killer case or something like that. Seeing that I am saying this, you should have guessed by now that this will give you a more detailed explanation.

For the Beginning I should tell you that I had a serious dissociative identity disorder since birth. I guess nobody knew this since I didn't tell anyone. In my childhood he was very weak so I didn't have any problems growing up. Other than hearing some strange voices from time to time I didn't notice him at all. It got slowly different when I fell in love with your Mother. I don't know why but the more I fell for her the more present and clearer his voice became. After I married her was the time, where I could understand for the first time what he was saying. It probably wasn't english he was speaking. Most of his words weren't logical sentences. He was only saying things like:" Slash Slash Slash - Mama -Tear Tear Tear - She was - Kill Kill Kill - HahahHAhahaHAha. - She - Aaaaahahaha - hurt". At times he was silent, other times he was so loud that I had headaches. In exceptional cases I had mad fits of laugher. Even though I knew what I heard was not normal I didn't see a doctor. Those that aren't quacks are pricy and I and your mother were not rich. I told myself to endure and learned to ignore him.

Last night it changed. It was around 8 o´clock in the evening, I think. I had a tremendous headache but thought it were just the usual voices. At some time it got so bad that I must have fainted. When I woke up he took over. I was a spectator, a prisoner in my own body. I was still seeing, I was still hearing things and worst I could still feel things... God, the Feeling. But I couldn't move how I wanted or say what I wanted. I was merely a passenger of the trainwreck that was soon to ensue. You can probably understand the fear I felt from trying to move and failing. At first, I thought I had died and was now a free spirit. Then I heard myself laugh, a laugh that was alien to me but at the same time so familiar. Till this moment I thought the worst fear in life was the fear of death itself. The laugh made me, who was already in mortal agony feel a fear that was bigger than anything I have ever imagined. The monster inside my head broke out of its cage. Although I knew he was evil I didn't know anything about him. I left the house while you were sleeping upstairs. At first, I thought he was only wandering aimlessly, but after about ten minutes I realized where we were going and my fear, which my cold rationality calmed down a bit by now, started to grow again. Every step he took seemed like an eternity. Every step he took made my fear grow. Every step he took, my guess of our destination became certainty. I wished for a physical form, where I could faint from fear and stop my actions. But he kept walking, laughing to himself. Looking back, I think he could feel my fear and that he could hear my screams. I fear it was what made him laugh all that time. I don't know how long it took, but we ended up in a back ally. I knew who was coming. When she arrived I felt the despair like never before. My wife looked surprised at me: "Honey? Why you're here? Didn't you say you would wait at home?" We walked closer like we would give her a hug. Suddenly he pulled a knife. In an instant and a flash of a knife, she was stabbed. It was at this moment, I regained control. Holding my dying wife in my arms and hearing the echo of my laugh. I felt a mix of sadness, despair and lingering fear while I put her down slowly. Fate didn't want to let us part in peace, so the moment she touched the ground I heard myself laughing madly again.

Now, as I write this letter I am faced with a crippling uncertainty as to what I should do. It is early in the morning. I am sitting before the post office.

There is no doubt I am going to hell for what I have done, I just hope that whoever judges me, judges the monster inside of me harsher.

Yours forever and always

-Jack