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It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
Lucy Christopher
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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
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WAL
Happened
Letter
Taken
Nowhere
Story
Sand
Stories
Heat
Used
Letters
Airport
Everything
Expected
Airports
Love
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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It sounded weird to hear you talk so much normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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You nodded towards the cup. Want more? I shook my head. What about the car? Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you. Towards . . . ? You nodded. So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home. Home? Yeah. Your mouth twitched. Back to me.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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