COURIER IN THE BIRD MASK

TRIGGER WARNINGS child death, suicide, abuse, plague, sickness, breakdowns, first person, spouse death, starvation

Day Five

Do it for yourself. You are protected in your Executor outfit.

Do it for the town. Listen to her scream.

Do it so you can figure out what the hell is going on.

Do it because you have to. The military arrived today. What will they do? Shoot. Kill. You can’t shoot a plague, what do they want me to do!?

I wrote the dying words of an eight year old today.

The world is cruel and unjust.

I still see him, coughing and crying as he’s faced with the fact he is going to die. There is no cure… I can’t do this.

-

Mama. I'm sorry I had to go this way. I'm sorry that I had to leave you with Joseph and Papa. I love the dinners you made. I love bedtime stories you read. I'm sorry I couldn't be a better son— I'm sorry I got sick. You told me that I couldn't go outside but I did anyways looking for a schmowder just in case. I love you, Mama. I hope Joseph can be the son I couldn't be. Take care of Papa.

Papa. Listen to Mama when she says not to go outside, I learned my lesson! Papa, I loved the walks in the Steppe and the time you taught me how to clean a shoe. I loved when you put on the Gramophone for the first time- and I loved when you told me it's okay to cry. I’m crying right now, isn’t that funny? I’m crying, and you taught me it’s okay. Don't get sick, please, Papa. Joseph needs you.

Joseph. I hope you can be the son that Mama and Papa needs. I hope you can live through this and if a guardian angel is real, I'll be yours. I'll protect you once I die. I love you, Joseph.

I love you all so, so much and if I could redo it all, I’d never go outside and get sick. 

Aleksi.

-

each memory is a message. each thought and idea is a story. each word i say could be engraved forever in the hearts of those who hear it. each moment I spend with another person is another memory. another memory becomes a message— it's a cycle. don't you hear it? a shame it is that that cycle ends here, today and now. let this be a memory, and let this be a message in the end.

these words are my final- let them be engraved in your heart. this is what my legacy will be, ignore the poems and the past fame i might have. this is the most important thing i’ll ever write to you, my dying child. 

if my words will be a memory in your heart, and I know i will not be forgotten, why can't I shake this feeling my poems and songs will be forgotten? why can't I make it leave me, the feeling that you will move on. i want you to move on, i want you to be happy but I can't feel this envy knowing you'll be living and I won't. I won't get to see you grow up, I won't get to see you smile and laugh with your new wife or husband, or get to see you dance along the steppe bare footed with your child like I did all those years ago.

guilt. atonement. love. those go hand in hand to me, guilt that I feel envy in your life. atonement in I will write a final letter, one that is full of my unending love for you, my child. so tell me, what will you do?

when your mother is gone and there's no one but yourself, no one but the emptiness in your heart will remain, right? you're wrong, what remains is your drive and ambition, your competitive flame which tells you to keep on living and I'll make sure you do. ignore the feelings of guilt and don't atone for your non existent sins, just love. love your sister and your mother, my wife. love who you have left, love me when I'm dead.

live for me, love for me when i can't anymore. I love you.

anya