Dear Patrick
Letter Forty-Four (Cont.)
But he wasn't perfect for me. And he didn't fix me again.
Because when I finally got to him, he was a little busy. But not because he was at practice or playing a game, but because he was too busy fighting with his managers about the publicity stunt that had gone bad for him. Me. I was a publicity stunt.
WHY WOULD ANYONE USE ME AS A PUBLICITY STUNT
Honestly, at first I didn't believe them. I thought they were lying. Like it was a joke, a prank. But I guess football and hockey fans were all going crazy over the fact that Chicago's NFL star Derek had taken Chicago's NHL star Patrick's girlfriend.
And so he tried to break it down, "make it easier to understand." He didn't even offer the whole, "It was for publicity at first, then it became real" bullshit. And he went on to say that I could have ruined his career and his reputation with the ladies had the public found out that I'd ditched him for you.
What the hell, right?
And then I was stuck again- lost. So I went back home, man. I just keep going back to the dumb old house where everything went wrong. And I got to the front door and I opened it and right when I was walking in, I recognized who Pig was.
I remember now so clearly why my mom never talked about him or let him around me.
I can't believe I couldn't remember my own dad. And then I couldn't believe that my dad didn't recognize me. And I got so mad. So, so pissed that I forgot Pig was dead and I started driving again. I drove to Ohio where dad used to live, to his house. But on my way there, I remembered that he followed us to Illinois. And as I was taking the exit off of I-85, another flashback appeared. It was of my dad, when I was like four. They'd just picked me up from my first day at school. And I got in happy and excited and began to tell them about my great day and how I sat by a short boy with blonde hair and blue eyes whose name was Patrick. The right in the middle of my sentence, my dad turned around and slapped me.
"Shut the hell up, you speak when you're spoken to." He told me.
And my mom sat there, quietly.
When I asked her years later why she didn't do anything she told me, "Believe me, baby I wanted to kill him. But if I had done anything while he was driving, he'd have purposely gotten in a car accident and killed you, that psycho." And she sobbed to me that she was sorry. But I never asked why she married him in the first place because I never wanted her to feel bad.
"I wish I knew," I thought to myself. And I kept thinking about my dad and my mom while I was driving.
When I finally snapped back into reality, my hand was on the gear shift and the car was in park. I was at the house again. I was at the house that I wanted more than everything to get out of. And before my brain could process and scream at the rest of my body to stay put and go the hell home, I was in front of the door... pushing it open. Inside was the same beautiful living room and kitchen and staircase.
I let my curiosity get the better of me and I started snooping. Snooping because I wanted to know more about my dad. I wanted to know who he was. And I looked in the fridge- I didn't find a single beer. My curiosity carried me up the stairs and down the hall to where I'd gotten Adam from. A huge double-door was at the end of the hallway. I dared myself to go in. I opened it and inside was the most beautiful collection of things I'd ever seen. Like, Pat, I mean it's like I'd entered a place in paradise.
"This is how my heaven will look like," I thought to myself as I stepped forward.
On the right, it was all sports. There was long tables covered with glass and autographed memorabilia that couldn't total to be less than a million bucks. And behind all the authentic records and baseballs and jerseys, was just books and books. Every one more rare than the next. And then in the corner of the room was some sort of wooden table. I analyzed it. One side of the table stuck out more than the other. So I pushed it up and the lid came off. It was one of those secret drawers. Inside was thirty journals. I opened one up, it was dated Tuesday, December 3, 2013. It began,
The girl that we took, she looks familiar- so familiar. I can't put my finger on exactly where I know her from. But I can't rape her. I know I've seen her. I'm scared, but I know it can't be, that she's my daughter. She has the same honey-colored eyes. And there's a scar on the left side of her head, by her eyebrow- but my daughter's scar was on the right, wasn't it?
I don't want to keep going. But I brought them home with me. All thirty of them. And they're with me. And when I read through them all, I read about your dad and I read about you and I read about my mom and your mom and all of us. And everything, just everything. So I came to you, Pat, because there was too much to not see you. And I know why you keep going what you do. I know why you get mad and have sex with any girl you see. And it's okay because we'll fix it I know. And when I came to you, Pat, you were sad and you weren't okay and we just started again. And we're doing good. So until you come home, I just want you to know that I love ya Patrick.
Love
Lana
Because when I finally got to him, he was a little busy. But not because he was at practice or playing a game, but because he was too busy fighting with his managers about the publicity stunt that had gone bad for him. Me. I was a publicity stunt.
WHY WOULD ANYONE USE ME AS A PUBLICITY STUNT
Honestly, at first I didn't believe them. I thought they were lying. Like it was a joke, a prank. But I guess football and hockey fans were all going crazy over the fact that Chicago's NFL star Derek had taken Chicago's NHL star Patrick's girlfriend.
And so he tried to break it down, "make it easier to understand." He didn't even offer the whole, "It was for publicity at first, then it became real" bullshit. And he went on to say that I could have ruined his career and his reputation with the ladies had the public found out that I'd ditched him for you.
What the hell, right?
And then I was stuck again- lost. So I went back home, man. I just keep going back to the dumb old house where everything went wrong. And I got to the front door and I opened it and right when I was walking in, I recognized who Pig was.
I remember now so clearly why my mom never talked about him or let him around me.
I can't believe I couldn't remember my own dad. And then I couldn't believe that my dad didn't recognize me. And I got so mad. So, so pissed that I forgot Pig was dead and I started driving again. I drove to Ohio where dad used to live, to his house. But on my way there, I remembered that he followed us to Illinois. And as I was taking the exit off of I-85, another flashback appeared. It was of my dad, when I was like four. They'd just picked me up from my first day at school. And I got in happy and excited and began to tell them about my great day and how I sat by a short boy with blonde hair and blue eyes whose name was Patrick. The right in the middle of my sentence, my dad turned around and slapped me.
"Shut the hell up, you speak when you're spoken to." He told me.
And my mom sat there, quietly.
When I asked her years later why she didn't do anything she told me, "Believe me, baby I wanted to kill him. But if I had done anything while he was driving, he'd have purposely gotten in a car accident and killed you, that psycho." And she sobbed to me that she was sorry. But I never asked why she married him in the first place because I never wanted her to feel bad.
"I wish I knew," I thought to myself. And I kept thinking about my dad and my mom while I was driving.
When I finally snapped back into reality, my hand was on the gear shift and the car was in park. I was at the house again. I was at the house that I wanted more than everything to get out of. And before my brain could process and scream at the rest of my body to stay put and go the hell home, I was in front of the door... pushing it open. Inside was the same beautiful living room and kitchen and staircase.
I let my curiosity get the better of me and I started snooping. Snooping because I wanted to know more about my dad. I wanted to know who he was. And I looked in the fridge- I didn't find a single beer. My curiosity carried me up the stairs and down the hall to where I'd gotten Adam from. A huge double-door was at the end of the hallway. I dared myself to go in. I opened it and inside was the most beautiful collection of things I'd ever seen. Like, Pat, I mean it's like I'd entered a place in paradise.
"This is how my heaven will look like," I thought to myself as I stepped forward.
On the right, it was all sports. There was long tables covered with glass and autographed memorabilia that couldn't total to be less than a million bucks. And behind all the authentic records and baseballs and jerseys, was just books and books. Every one more rare than the next. And then in the corner of the room was some sort of wooden table. I analyzed it. One side of the table stuck out more than the other. So I pushed it up and the lid came off. It was one of those secret drawers. Inside was thirty journals. I opened one up, it was dated Tuesday, December 3, 2013. It began,
The girl that we took, she looks familiar- so familiar. I can't put my finger on exactly where I know her from. But I can't rape her. I know I've seen her. I'm scared, but I know it can't be, that she's my daughter. She has the same honey-colored eyes. And there's a scar on the left side of her head, by her eyebrow- but my daughter's scar was on the right, wasn't it?
I don't want to keep going. But I brought them home with me. All thirty of them. And they're with me. And when I read through them all, I read about your dad and I read about you and I read about my mom and your mom and all of us. And everything, just everything. So I came to you, Pat, because there was too much to not see you. And I know why you keep going what you do. I know why you get mad and have sex with any girl you see. And it's okay because we'll fix it I know. And when I came to you, Pat, you were sad and you weren't okay and we just started again. And we're doing good. So until you come home, I just want you to know that I love ya Patrick.
Love
Lana
Notes
you'll be reading more of Pig's letters my friendds
Thank you guys so much!! Let me know what you think of the newest chapters!
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2/12/15