Undone(6)
Second things second: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t begin to explain it. People say sorry all the time for the silliest little things. But you have to know this: I’m sorry in the biggest, hugest way it’s possible to be sorry. I hope you can find a way to forgive me one day. I know you’ll be angry and I can’t blame you for that. If things were the other way around, I would be so furious with you for leaving me behind. So I guess what I’m saying is, I think I understand how you feel right now, but I don’t think you’ll always feel this way. You’re just going to have to trust me on that. And if my words aren’t enough to convince you, might I suggest conjuring up an image of my rakishly charming simle? I think that might help. Or just look at that photo on your phone. You know the one – don’t pretend you don’t. ‘Devilishly handsome’ were your exact words, I believe. (If this was a text message and I was not so vehemently opposed to such nonsense, I would probably be going for a winky-face emoticon right now...)
Don’t worry, this isn’t a suicide note. I’m not going to be all ‘Woe is me!’ or anything. You know why I’m doing this. There’s nothing to be gained from going on about it. What’s done is done. At least, it will be by the time you’re reading this. Unless I chickened out and couldn’t go through with it. In which case, you won’t be reading this, because I’ll probably have put it through the shredder in Dad’s office. But I really don’t think I’m going to chicken out. I’m sorry. I’ll stop apologizing in a minute, but God, Jem, I’m going to miss you so much.
You are my favourite person in the world. You KNOW that, don’t you? I love you more than I love the History Channel. I love you more than I love my sunglasses (and you know how much I love those aviators). I love you more than I love Tim Riggins. I love you more than all of these things combined. That’s a whole lot of love. Infinite in fact. Please forgive me for being a tad sentimental, but I think the circumstances warrant it, don’t you?
Jem (That’s a serious Jem-listen-to-me-very-carefully sort of Jem, in case you were wondering.) You have to get over this. Move forward with your life and go Kick the world in the balls, just like we always planned.
Right, let’s cut to the chase. I hadn’ intended to be quite so long-winded, but you know me - I’m not exactly known for succinctness. You’ll notice that there are eleven more envelopes - one a month.
Today’s the 23rd, so I think it makes sense if you open the next one on 23rd December (just in time for Christmas!) and the following one on 23rd Jan, etc. etc. You get the picture. Please, please, PLEASE don’t open them early. That’s cheating, and nobody likes a cheat. (Confession time: I cheated at Monopoly every single time we played. You really shouldn’t have let me be the banker ... all that power went to my head. So you only have yourself to blame, really.)
That’s about all I’ve got for November... except for a couple of favours. Please could you look out for Lol for me. I know she’s not exactly your favourite person, but she’s my sister. She needs someone to keep an eye on her. That should be my job, but I’ve failed. I’ve well and truly failed at being a brother, Jem, and it breaks my heart. I’m not quite sure what I’m asking you to do exactly. I suppose maybe you could just BE there. Just in case.
The other thing I need you to do is not obsess about what happened. It’s done. It was unfortunate and I wish to God it hadn’t happened, but it did. You need to forget about it, ok? I don’t want you playing girl detective or anything. It doesn’t matter now. None of it matters. The only thing that matters now is you. You need to look after You. You’re going to do good things in this world, I just know it. Speak to you next month, my little pickle.
Kai
xxx
p.s. I think you’d look ravishing with blonde hair. Always have. Why don’t you give it a go ... for me? I believe the technical term for this is ‘emotional blackmail’, but that doesn’t sound very nice. Maybe a dare would be better? I DARE you to dye your hair blonde - just for a little while. (Yes, I’m fully aware that this is an incredibly immature thing to do. Oh well.)
chapter four
Every word was a needle pricking at my heart. I read the letter five times, crying harder and harder so that it got really difficult to see the words.
Then I lay curled up in a little ball, my thoughts tumbling round my head. Monopoly. Kai’s face in that photo. Kai didn’t know (obviously), but I used to look at it every night before I went to sleep. There was something about it that made me think that even though life seemed bleak, maybe it could all turn out OK. With Kai in the world, it was a brighter, friendlier place. I hadn’t looked at the photo since he died.
I couldn’t believe Kai had gone to all this trouble, but at the same time it was such a Kai thing to do. Even at his lowest, his life in tatters, he was thinking of me. He didn’t have a selfish gene in his body. I know people think suicide is selfish, and maybe sometimes it really is. But what happened to Kai was beyond what anyone should have to cope with. I didn’t blame him, not really. It just broke my heart that I wasn’t enough to keep him here. That he couldn’t hold on a couple more years until we could get out of this godforsaken place and go seek our fortunes in London. That was the plan. That had always been the plan.
Kai was right. I had been angry with him, but not right away. The first week or so was pure grief – raw and ugly and dark. But then that morphed into something else. The sadness was still there and still huge, but suddenly I felt abandoned. I kept on having this ridiculous thought that Kai was the only person who could possibly comfort me. I needed him to hug me and hold me and tell me that everything was going to be OK without him; how dare he not be here for me? He’d always been that person for me. That one person I could go to and know that he would make me feel better. And now I needed him more than ever and he was gone. For good. I wanted to punch him and shake him and shout, ‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?’