A Letter To Peace.

Forgive me my Dear Irene,

I am writing this as a redemption for my sins, as I am ready to be killed for others selfish desires. I know I won't be there to watch your hair grow just like you, so forgive me for my future absence.

Controlled by the others' hunger, I constantly think about how I'm ordered to eliminate another child's father, who probably writes the letters just like mine. I wonder, if sometimes our words collide. Same words, on the same paper, at the same time.

Currently I might be used like a marionette, but you must have reached your mothers height! It's weird how I left you as short as a snowman which we used to build. Also, remember to use a ladder for safety when putting a star on a Christmas tree, since I won't be there to lift you up in my arms anymore.

Funny, how people in our village are celebrating the almost end of this bloody game. They cheer, eat, and drink. The owners of us will probably smile at each other as a symbol of peace, yet your mother will still pick flowers for my grave, just like the mother living next to you, eagerly waiting for his son's return.

How beautiful yet tragic is a mother's hope?

I stand here today so you won’t have such kind of fate, however, I’m afraid I know the nature of a man. No matter how hard we fight, how many of us fight, how much we sacrifice, the cycle of desire never stops running.

This useless faith will probably die with me on a playground today, or tomorrow, maybe the day after.

I hope the day after so this letter can reach you.

As I mentioned, this message is a redemption of my sins, so I confess that when I was your age, I stole two pieces of apple dusted with sugar.

The sins haunt me to this day. Don’t steal apples dusted with sugar. The baker will beat you up.

Tell your mother that I’m fighting off the ugliness of this game with her presence in my memories. Whenever I think about her, suddenly the blood purifies in water, clouds wash away, and the sun peaks.

I should have held her tightly before I left. It was not enough. I let her go too fast and forgot to put my head on her shoulder.

She was making biscuits that day, she smelled like burnt sugar and chocolate. Tell her to make it again, maybe the scent of those will bring me back to life.

No matter how flawless and perfect the promise of heaven may be, without your mother, those pies won’t taste the same, however, it’s too early for her to follow me, make sure of that.

I understand I talk too boldly about arriving at the gates of Heaven, but dreaming hasn’t killed anyone. Every night I put my palms together, praying for your safety, for your mother’s safety, for your future, for her future, and lastly, I finish it by begging God to purify me when I reach him.

I say that If he refuses I will understand, If he laughs at me I will put my head down in shame and If he scolds me or fights with me I will bear it. I will bear it in whatever way he wants me to, because I know I’m the type of sin they talked about it in the book. If only I had the voice, the courage, anything that would fight this game, not its players, I would do it.

I’m just a coward Irene, I need you to understand this now. From my own mouth, before they start to laugh at you for having the kind of parent I am.

People can be cruel while playing this game. They easily lose their own humanity, the only thing that distinguishes them from animals, yet they give it up so easily. I’m so ashamed to be saying all of this, while also doing the same.

What do I do Irene? What can I do? I wonder if you will be able to make peace with my soul in the future. I pray that too sometimes, but not always, because I don’t want to bother God too often, I’m already asking him a lot. He might be receiving so many prayers these past few years, sometimes I worry if he hears me too.

What else can I say which will show you my humanity? It’s funny how I will be just a fragment of your life, while you have been my every second of living on this earth. It’s not enough, this paper isn’t enough, the time I was given with you wasn’t enough, time I have spent with your mother wasn’t enough.

There are many things a father wishes to tell his child, a lot of advice to give. If I were given a few more years, maybe I would guide you through life, If I were given a few months, I think I would explain the importance of living by your heart, but we both know no further days are being granted, so in this second, I think, I would tell you to listen to the others, yet that same advice got me here today. So I’m telling you to be safe, be cautious, love your mother, love yourself enough to not be like your father.

I would also tell you how much I love you but the weight of it would rip this paper apart.

I don’t know what else to say, the only thing I want now is to never put a last comma on one of these words, since those same words are what keeps you two living in my imagination.

You might miss me but- I hav. Yet.

I heard a blast, take care Irene. Love your mother for both of us.

Sincerely Your Father.

Museum Of Military Correspondence.

From The Collection: ‘’Letters That Never Got Delivered’’