Sincerely, Russell

The metallic purr of the rust-colored storage unit door came to a halt with a loud thud echoing down the empty hallway as I peered into its contents. One hundred twenty-five dollars in cash made me the proud owner of the solitary box waiting for me in the corner. Storage auctions are more hit than miss with the unwanted, unforgotten accumulations of junk and holiday decorations. Occasionally, there are some worthwhile finds like coins, jewelry or the mountain bike I cleaned up to collect dust in my own garage, promising myself I would ride it one day and finally get into shape.

I had 48 hours to remove the abandoned items, but I doubt I would need more than half an hour including the time it would take to throw any worthless items in the dumpster. Reaching for the knife in my pocket to cut the masking tape seal, I noticed a black, hard cover notebook on top of the box. It was in good condition and had a matching elastic keeping it closed. Usually, such notebooks in abandoned units are catchalls for random information or the sad ramblings of a tortured, depressed soul.

“Why the hell not?”, I muttered to bare walls of the 10x10 space as I sat down feeling the chill of concrete through my jeans.

As I flipped past the empty “in case of loss” page, the first words read “My Dearest JessieJo”, dated 02/12/2012. Unsent letters of thoughts that couldn’t be voiced. Forgetting about the box for a moment, I leaned against the wall to read at least a few pages.

My Dearest JessieJo, 02/12/2012

I see your eyes everywhere. Green with flecks of gold, unlike any I have seen. They consume me, tugging on something deep within my soul, pulling me towards you. Changed in ways transcending anything words could express. They reach out in blissful innocence, with childlike joy, even though you’re far from both. Whenever I see your eyes, I hear your lilting laugh. It’s like the first notes coming from a music box – disarming yet melodic. Like your eyes – bewitching and hypnotic, drawing me to you like a toy boat to a tub drain, spinning around until it’s nose down unable to right itself.

I vividly remember that day running on the university campus. The summer heat made my midday run almost unbearable. One glance at you made every bead of sweat worth it. You were crouched on the ground tying the shoelaces of a little girl, a veil of dark hair covering your face. Your long, auburn hair was pin straight, shining like satin in the sunshine. The girl was a copy of you, your daughter judging by the way you tidied her clothes and hair. I stopped to stretch at the nearest tree to observe you. Your casual chatter with Alessia (I heard you say it) left me with an opening. I cleverly asked if you if you would help me with my shoe. With a quick glance to my running shoes, you noticed they were perfectly tied. That joyful bubble of giggles will play in my brain in forever. I was completely surprised when you gave me your number,but accepted with a promise to call.

I wish I could take back that moment to keep it perfect. It changed us both forever. The sins of the past cannot be undone but at the same time, I would not take anything back.

Always yours,

Russell

My Love, 02/12/2012

I deserve an apology. I know you can and will never ask for forgiveness even though you should beg for it. That’s your fault. You, your family, your daughter will have to live with the consequences and misery you’ve created with your atrocious behavior.

In retrospect, I’m fine knowing I tried. I’ll take that to my grave. Hopefully, there are many years before that. In all truth, I will recount our first and only date together daily. We had dinner and drinks on a cool, clear night a restaurant on the Chesapeake Bay. A breeze caressed our shoulders as the shadowed water gurgled against the starlit pier. We were surrounded by people yet completely lost in our own world. The noise of the ocean seemed dull next to the melody of your voice. We were in a bubble and that’s how it should’ve stayed. Forever. I wish you could’ve done right by me, by us and our future could be different.

Love,

R

JJ, 02/29/2012

Today is more difficult for me to understand everything. I circle back to the how and the why and find hurt and betrayal. The counselor here keeps encouraging me to explore it. I’m not sure I have the emotional fortitude to address it. These letters were his idea hoping they help. But how can they when you do not respond? I may be haunted, seeing you wherever I turn but you cannot answer from the grave. You appear in visions. Am I crazy? You’ve visited me in dreams giving this sad smile. I see you as I last saw you. Defeated, broken and bruised. Your eyes sparkling with such joy turn cold. It is a palpable change, electric with energy as you fall apart before my eyes into nothingness. But I need closure you cannot offer me or find within my cell. You have me trapped physically and emotionally in a betrayal. Why did you do this to me?

I wonder where I could’ve redeemed us but come up empty. It’s clear your mind could never be changed, and you didn’t want happiness. Everyone we know now suffers. Your selfish, destructive behavior abounds in ways I can’t fathom.

Confused but yours,

Russell

My JessieJo, 03/24/2012

I miss you, your eyes plague me. The wrinkles at the corners of your eyes when you smile are in the wrinkled sheets on my bed, my rumpled uniform. Even in the bleak, grey walls. The cracks and veins of the old paint even invoke images of your radiant smile. The austere coverings that surround me eventually give way to memories and are brightened, if only temporarily, by you.

I will always remember how perfect you looked when I picked you up for our first date. We connected, truly connected. I felt whole.

Everything changed so quickly after.

We got in my SUV to plan the rest of the night. We bantered back and forth about where to go. It turned into an argument when you wouldn’t listen. I wanted to be closer to you. But you argued. Blinded by rage, I pulled over so we could work it out. I wanted you to see the wrong in your arguments and move on. But you ran out of my car, down the shoulder of the highway. You were a danger to yourself and others. You moved quickly, I moved faster. I caught up to you quickly, wrapped my arms around you and we tumbled together down the embankment by the highway. The grass and soil cushioned our fall. Our clothes were dew soaked as I landed on top of you. I thought I might kiss you, try to make this romantic, but you struggled against me. I wanted to save you, I was trying to keep you from harming yourself.

I had to quiet you. I tried calling your name, tried to calm you in every way I could imagine. In the dark, I could see those gorgeous, eyes the moonlight. There was no turning back. I knew what I had to do, hoping you’d understand it was because of you. Surprise and fear flickered in your eyes as I wrapped my hands around your neck. You gasped, reaching for my hands clawing at my skin. I couldn’t stop until you were still. Only then would you understand that it was to save us both.

After that, I have no memory. All I know is I wound up in this cell, serving a life sentence. They say after I strangled you, I beat your corpse with a rock until it was unrecognizable. I cut off your fingers and toes, removed your jaw, knocked out your teeth and put them in your purse to dispose of later. My roommate said I had been acting weird and took a lot of showers. Why can’t I remember? If they say I did, I must have. All I hoped was to preserve the perfect evening we had. Why would I ruin that by killing you? It was not me that ruined it, you did.

I will always miss you and wish you could have truly seen me for what I was – just a man that wanted to give you everything. I get letters from Alessia a couple times a month now. She blames me for everything. She thinks I’m a monster. She doesn’t know the truth. I wish there were someone there to tell her the truth.

Yours,

Russell

JessieJo, May 15, 2012

I’m still not convinced these letters help. My counselor wants me to keep at it. He claims they’ll help me take “personal responsibility” for why I’m in prison and maybe even help me sort out some anger issues. I see no issue.

He’s gone as far to share letters sent to me, filtered out and held by the warden. I’m unsure why they weren’t given to me. I don’t get enough mail anyway. The nature of the letters wasn’t the nicest, but at least there are people thinking of me, even if they wish I were dead. All the confiscated letters included threats from your friends and family. It seems like they were trying to justify my behavior, failing to realize that they need to justify yours. It is a mystery to me why they allowed the letters from Alessia through and not these. She may have never threatened me, but she harbors a lot of hate. My counselor isn’t concerned. I have tried to get him to read my letters to you – he won’t. I asked him to send them to your family and Alessia to help them understand – he definitely won’t. He says that is a level of pain and harassment they don’t need. Isn’t it better to know the truth in the end?

I will always miss you. I see and hear you everywhere and wish you were with me. I know we could make this fun together.

Always yours,

Russell

I flipped through the notebook, but the rest of the pages were blank, even the pocket at the back had no clues as to who Russell was. I let it fall to the floor as I got to my knees, the blade of the knife slashing openthe tape. I snapped the box open with trepidation. All it held were newspapers. I picked up a stack and glanced as I set it on the ground. The front page was dated in 2011 with a headline “Russell Wade convicted of murder”. With sweat beading on my forehead and pooling at the base of my neck, I sorted through the rest of the contents of the box. A worn t-shirt, pair of sneakers. A receipt tucked in the shoe showed a faded but legible phone number. There were two items left, a rock and a small cooler.

I have seen enough horror movies that I shouldn’t want to open the cooler and I definitely don’t want to touch the rock. All of this looked like evidence. I picked up the cooler and gently shook it. I heard a rocking inside. Was it a decomposed finger? Jaw? I wouldn’t find out if I didn’t open it. The lid stuck for a moment and released acrid air. Oh crap. The bottom of the cooler held two straps of 100-dollar bills. That’s 20k. I picked them up and flipped through them, all 100s. Was this for real? Murder paraphernalia and 20k?

It was then I noticed the bottom of the cooler. A single tooth and the words “Don’t Tell”.