Christa stared at the letter she received from the mailman. The handwriting seemed familiar, she was almost sure that her address was written by her brother. She hurried along the path to her house, the snow creaking faintly underneath her boots. When she came inside, she started making tea. While waiting for the water to boil, she sat down and opened the envelope. Why did he write to her now? He had forsaken her a long time ago, what could he possibly want to tell her? In hope of getting her questions answered, she started reading the letter.

“New York 23/12 1968

Dear Christa

This is the last letter you will receive from me. I can’t go on in this world because I carry such grief and sorrow that no man could live with, but before I end my misery I would like to give you an explanation, dear sister. You might be angry, sad and terrified at the moment, but I assure you that after you’ve read about my misery, you will forgive me for taking my own life. Don’t shed tears over my doomed soul, for my life couldn’t get more sorrowful and painful. Only my own death could save me from my past.

Tonight is the day before Christmas Eve. Four years have passed since I left you and our family in Great Britain, and one year since my dearest love, Cornelia, left me all alone. I never told anyone the story about my despair, but I feel that it’s my duty to tell it to you Christa, before I let myself rest forever. I want you, beloved sister, to understand how my life has been. Since I’ve only written one letter to you since I came to the US, I feel that I have to write down the whole story from the time when I left you in the UK.

As you know, I left the Great Britain because of Cornelia. I saw her in London six years ago and I fell in love with her in an instant. I had never felt this way about a person, and I knew that I couldn’t just watch this love walk away. A year later, I visited the US and I found her in New York. I was stalking her and that scared her, but when she saw that I didn’t have any evil intentions, she let me buy her dinner. That night, we both realized that we had found love. She was my soul mate. We found ourselves devoted to each other, this was a love supreme.

We got ourselves an apartment in New York. We went out for dinner almost every night, and there were always a party to go to or a theatre play to see. I think that I and Cornelia have been to every museum in New York. We both loved music and art. Cornelia was and artist and made the most incredible paintings I’ve ever seen. Oh, how I miss her, my sweet Cornelia. I’ve torn every painting she made into pieces, except for one. I was raging through her art room one night and I destroyed everything in the room, with the exception of a self portrait she had done. I still have it, and I will bring it to my grave.

The three years I spent with her in New York were the happiest years of my life. I thought about you a lot, but I only wrote one letter to you. I regret this so much, because you meant more to me than I knew. I’m a bastard and I feel so bad about my neglect of you. I don’t deserve to see you again, and I won’t.

Now let’s go back to the story. As you see, we were very happy together. She showed me the world and I came to love her more than I’ve ever loved a woman before. She was my everything and she still is. But she is gone, and that is why I can’t stay in this cruel world.

After about three years together, our beautiful bubble of love burst. I became jealous, and I went mad if Cornelia spoke to other men. She became annoyed with my distrust and started to talk to other men just to annoy me, just to make me see that she did whatever she wanted to do. Of course, I became furious with her. One night, I lost all my senses and slapped her right in her face. I yelled at her and she wept.

This was the beginning of the end. I lost my self control and it happened again, again and again. Sometimes I kicked her, sometimes I hit her in the face. But she didn’t leave me. She stayed even though I mistreated her and beat her. She was never afraid of me, because she knew I would stop after a few punches, and she knew that I would come crawling on my knees the next day, begging for her forgiveness. Today, I wish that she wouldn’t be the bold person she was. I wish she’d left me before it was too late...

One dark and beautiful December night, we went to a Christmas party at a friend’s house. Cornelia enjoyed herself as usual, and I never let her out of sight. I was talking to a fellow-worker when I noticed that Cornelia wasn’t standing there with me. I became a bit nervous and started searching for her. I couldn’t find her anywhere and I started calling her name. People were staring at me, they must have thought I was out of my mind. I hurried out to the cloakroom, still yelling her name. I was standing there, breathing hard, when I heard her soft voice coming from behind me. She said; “Oh, Michael, why do you embarrass yourself”. I turned around, staring at her. I was furious with her! I took a few angry steps towards her, grabbed her right arm and dragged her outside. We were going home.

Me and Cornelia walked the streets of New York. We both were very quite at first. After a couple of silent minutes, she made an attempt to talk to me. I didn’t let her finish her sentence. I stopped, turned to her and shouted all the terrible things you could call a person. But she didn’t listen either. She yelled abuse back at me. We stood there for quite some time, just shouting at each other. When I noticed that she didn’t listen, I gave her a slap in the face. We both went silent. Then she made something I didn’t think she would have the guts to do; she hit ME. She punched me right in the face. At first, I just stared at her with a look that told her that I didn’t see this coming, but I wasn’t late on giving her a punch in her stomach. And so we both went off in a big fight. We kicked each other, we hit each other and we even bit each other.

I’ve always been physically stronger than Cornelia. That horrendous night after our last Christmas party wasn’t an exception. I hit her so hard that she couldn’t stand up. I dragged her into an alley and I knelt beside her. I told her how I was sorry and how I wanted her to forgive me. I helped her up on her feet and hugged her. But she bit my ear. I didn’t hesitate this time, I beat her up and finished it off with kicking her in the head. I fell to the ground, unable to stand. I heard the faint sound of Christmas carols. I listened to them as I wept silently. After what had felt like several hours, I got to my feet. And then I ran. I ran home to our apartment and fainted as I came through the door.

Dear sister, I’m a monster. I cannot explain my actions. It’s not an excuse for my behaviour when I say that I wasn’t myself when it all happened, but I want you to know that I wasn’t thinking at that point, my instincts had taken control over me. I couldn’t handle myself.

How can I describe all the pain I’ve gone through? What’s worse is, that I can only blame my misery on myself. The sound of Christmas carols is a torment and it reminds me of that I’ve done. I cannot take it.

Beloved Christa, I am deeply sorry for everything I have ever done. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I expect you to understand me, and why I am about to take my life to an end.

I hope that your life has been and will be fortunate. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Take care of yourself.

With love

Your brother, Michael”

Christa breathed hard. She tried to take in what she just had read, but it was impossible to comprehend. She had forgotten all about the tea and her cheeks were wet with tears. She put the letter in the envelope and pushed it away from her. Christa was in a great shock, uncertain about if her brother was alive or dead. She sat at the table all night asking herself questions that she couldn’t answer, until she finally fell asleep, her head resting on the table.

Epilogue

Christa couldn’t rest without knowing what had happened to her brother. She made at least a hundred phone calls and wrote about 40 letters. This is what she found out:

The police had found a woman’s body in an alley in New York the 23 of December in 1968. They estimate that she had been dead for 2 hours when they found Cornelia. They assumed that since she didn’t carry any money, murdered with robbery had been committed.

Michael’s body had been found outside of New York in the Atlantic Ocean. A painting was tied to the body and it depicted a woman’s face.