Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange lane.

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Hospital "Jewelry on the Corpse"

“When they brought me in to identify the body, I was unsure what they were expecting of me. The body was badly burned, almost to a cinder. The only thing that gave it away was the necklace around her neck. The intermittent stones, the malformed gold draped around her neck...it was her, I was sure of it. I had seen it around her neck when I kissed her goodnight. I had first seen it around three months before when I gave it to her as a anniversary gift. When asked if I could think of who would want to hurt her, I had to admit I didn't know anyone who would want to. But I knew someone who was willing to start a fire.

They picked him up soon after that. His hands were badly burned, but he had not gone to seek medical treatment. Said that he barely felt it at all. I knew his history, an it was only for that reason that I believed him. He had lost sensation in his hands years earlier, when his family had been killed in a fire. Back then, I had taken up his care during and after his stay in the hospital. I was at the trial when he was accused of arson.

A new therapist was assigned to the boy. He was brought in to try and substantiate that the boy was insane at the time of the act. His testimony was loose, but it drove the point home. When asked later if I had anything I wished to say, I suggested that instead of prison, the boy be kept in a institution. It wasn't about my desire to see him receive treatment. I knew that if he was sent to prison there would be a chance at an appeal. If they were convinced that he had a long standing, mental ailment, he would be kept under observation for the rest of their life. Treating him as a criminal was foolish. The truth was he was insane.

His lawyer informed me after the trial that I was going to be a character witness...that I was the one most qualified to speak on the boys inclinations. I thought about the years I had spent talking with the boy, about his family and his childhood. And I thought about the years I had spent with my wife, about the day when we first met, and the condition of her body when I was asked to identify her.

I had to bury what was left of my wife in a casket, though at that point they might as well had just gone all the way and cremated her.

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY

On THAT SUNSHINE IN EVERY SPRING

This is actually not the original one. It was written two months ago and.. I found everything I said as a fantasy created for me. It gave me the feeling that I am inside a fairy tale—that you are my prince and I am the damsel in distress.

However, life is not a fantasy. It’s a reality as it is. We met by chance and you took me off guard from the first time we met. It was like in the movie Serendipity. (I shall not elaborate this). Since I am truthfully a damsel in distress who waits for her prince charming to save her from the dramatic scene, your arrival was really, really something. But then again you are not a prince, and you remind me of Kenji of She’s Dating the Gangster—only worse than him. You said you are willing to change and do everything for me. So cliché, I know. Yet I believed you. And so our story began.

I came across to new feelings I’ve never known before. The relationship was magical, for me. Words and actions, I guess it was really a tough thing to decide whether the attraction is real or not. But I was so sure of you that even a lame excuse, I believed you. I was innocent and gullible back then. I’m hoping until now, in a positive manner.

Until we, yes we.. both started screwing up. You then started choosing things over me and gave me excuses which my friends somehow raised eyebrows. But love itself never faded, it actually grew stronger than I never did imagine. Again, it was only for me.

Two months have passed and we stayed strong—or at least I thought so. But it ended after that. It stayed only for two months. You broke it all off, because you are a jerk. JOKE. I mean you have been always a jerk, but that isn't the real reason. It’s because finally you had your share to another girl, a hot one like you said. Who would have confessed on cheating unless he is an idiot himself? You retracted. You just told me that you wanted to be alone. I thought it can be actually fixed by bargaining everything—everything that you can imagine. And you just said no. Simply, no.

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