Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Dear Patrick,

I keep trying to cry but nothing comes out. Even when he burns me, it doesn't work. He hasn't drugged me in a while., Pat. I feel everything coming back- my senses. Adam isn't even here, I was just confused. I think. It's all still so blurry. I'm not strong enough to get up the stairs yet.

If that girl was here, I would've been able to. I know it. She would've helped me up. She wouldn't leave me but I killed her. It's my fault. I fell on her and she broke my fall. I should've broken her fall. She deserves to live. But not like this. So I guess it's good I didn't get killed because I'd rather this happen to me than have her be a witness and part of it.

She was young, too Patrick. So young. I could tell right when I met her that she was going to grow up into the most beautiful, intelligent girl me or you'd ever seen. I wish you could meet her, you'd say the exact same thing- but she's dead. You would've loved her so much. I miss you Patrick. I miss you so much. There's only 21 more days until Christmas. 21 more days until you come and get me. You're going to come right. Adam just left. I think he trusts me more, now. He was telling me what to write in that first paragraph.

I think it's Adam who's doing this but I can't figure any of this out, Patrick. I keep remembering little things but it's so scary, I disregard all the thoughts. The memory hurts and scares the shit out of me because if it's true, I won't know what to do with myself.

I wish that girl was still alive.

Patrick can you please come already? I need to tell you something but I'm going to save it until Christmas. I'm going to save it until you get here to save me. But I'm not going to tell you ON Christmas, I'm going to tell you the day after. That way Christmas can be Christmas and not anything else. Before all this started happening, I bought you a present. I made you one, too. They're both still in the trunk of my car. There's a bunch of junk still in my car, though. Try to figure out which is yours and the others you can get rid of. I don't think I wrapped it yet. I hope you know it when you see it. Please look for it, Patrick. Don't ignore what I'm saying. Look for it and find me and tell me if you finally get it.


Love,
Lana

P.S. Don't call the police, Pat. Please.


Thursday, January 9, 2014

Dear Lana,

I went to Adam's house. His mom opened the door. She said she hasn't seen Adam since high school graduation- that he's off in California getting his degree. She has to be lying because I know you wouldn't. Would you? You wouldn't. Unless you don't know. Lana, I'm looking for you. I'm worried about you. So worried. I'm in violation of my contract, I haven't been down to Chicago in about a week or so. I don't know, I don't care, I can't remember. All I can think about is you. I'm going to find you, don't you even worry. I'm not going to call the police because I'm terrified for your life. I won't call, I promise you that. But I miss you, Lana and I'm going to find you. I went to your car. It's still parked the way it was the last time I was here. I opened your trunk and I couldn't find anything. There was a bunch of junk, like you said. There was your backpack, your basketball, stuff you used when you babysat (like the car-seat, the crayons, the diaper bag). There was like seven pairs of shoes, by the way. Besides that, there were your art supplies and a soccer ball and that's it. I'm so confused Lana. What do you want me to understand and why the hell won't you just say it? I'm going to find you. I'm going to read every letter over and over until I get you. Then I can show you what I'd gotten you for Christmas.

Patrick