26 September, 2010
The Apostate . . . . Continued
Hello Mother, I know . . . I know it has been a while since we last talked, and I know you are extremely angered by my actions. So I’m writing this letter to let you know that I’m okay. I will be trying to frequently write you now, unless you never reply back .
I don’t really know where I am at. All I know is that it’s a small town called Burndale. I’m living with this beautiful young couple that invited me in for a couple days. Soon they will probably tell me to get out. Before I found them I would normally just camp out under someone’s porch until they saw me and told me to leave. I get a little bit of food from a nice old lady down the street. She gives me some soup and bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and while I eat ill talk to her about her day and ask her if she needs me to do anything. I figure it’s the least I can do for her. I don’t have much of anything that I can call my own other than a couple pairs of clothes, a few books, and the old stopwatch that dad used to carry around with him before he died.
I think about you and the kids a lot. I have a lot of time to think, since I don’t work anymore. I extremely miss all of you. How are the kids? How are you? How’s the house? I have a million and one questions for you and a lot of things to tell you about what has happened over the last year. Sometime’s when I think about the day I left you and the kids I feel guilty and selfish for leaving y’all like that. No one to help support the family. No one to help raise the kids. No one for the kids to look up to. I love you and Tell the kids I love them to.