Letters to Kelsey

And I listened to him. I decided against myself, ignoring until the need to read one of the letters. I felt foolish for slacking and even worse with how Frank blew me out of the water. But I had to take it in consideration, and that meant everything, even him kissing me. It was time for me to quit putting this off. I woke up early the next day, to the gloomy rain clouds hovering the entire sky and grabbed the box of letters to my bedroom. The house was silent and a little chilly from the wind blown in the house from the windows. I sat in the middle of the floor with my legs folded and sat the box in front before me, preparing myself to read. There was also a heart shaped rock inside of the box, taped to one of the letters. The rock was small and smooth to the touch. It was probably one of the most precious thing I had ever seen. Before I opened the letter, I placed the rock beside me, gently onto the cool floor.

Second letter: April 9th 1944

Dear Kelsey,

I don’t think you will ever forgive me, but today I’ve killed a man; a man that served to be evil and do evil things. I say this because I began to think about this for a while, practually all night since it happened. I thought about what his life would’ve been like or what it was like before I had killed him. Did he have a wife and, or children? Didn’t he have a family too? These thoughts have been measured in my head hours after I had looked him the eye and shot in right in the heart. The impact of the bullet piercing through him had made my stomach turned. Kelsey, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself. I mean, it was the right thing to do—well, in America’s eyes and how we’re meant to accept violence in our hearts. What happened to the art? What happened to the art of being happy and peace making? I guess I could forget about that, too. I’ll have to become evil too, not some hero and kill for revenge that I would never summit myself to. I have to get use to the smell of death, the feeling of betrayal and other things as well. The chaos paints a picture of madness in my heart. Kelsey, honey, please listen when I tell you this, but I don’t want Scarlett to ever be afraid of this chaos. I want you to tell her that I’m always with her, always and forever. I just want her to live without hate. Can you do that for me?

I traveled around Rome a little bit and took a few visits around the art gallaries. It’s such a beautiful place and I wish I could bring you here. But I had found this heart shaped rock on the ground on my small visits. I thought of Scarlett when I had found it and so I figured that I give it to her. It’ll be something that she can always keep and think about me. I’m leaving it taped to this letter and there’s also something in this for you too, honey. It’s hope, more hope than you would ever imagine because I can just already imagine how you’re feeling at this point without me. You’re drinking, trying to paint pictures when you know that you’ll never be as good—I’m sorry, but you know it’s true. But don’t stop doing art and keep yourself alive. Please?

Well, that is all for now. Until then, darling. I love you all and I shall try to write again soon. I’m exhausted and my nerves are still shot from shooting a man in the heart. Forgive me.

Te iubesc,

Noah

As I finished reading the letter, I took the heart shaped rock and pressed it against my lips. Scarlett will love this, I thought to myself. I was pleased with the unique rock for her and I knew for sure that she was going to love it more than I would. I held it in my palm for a while, feeling the coolness up against it and then, thought about what Noah had said. How did he know about me drinking and trying to be artistic? I questioned myself, which was worthless because in some way, Noah knew everything. He was smart, smarter than I was anyways.

I couldn’t wait to show Scarlett her gift that dad had given her to remember him. I had always left a few photos of Noah in her room for her too, but I think this was best as well. The heart shaped rock. I went into Scarlett’s room, where it was cold and well lit from her night light. The door had been cracked too, and I slipped inside to place the rock on her nightstand. Scarlett instantly opened her eyes and smiled at me. Then she said, “Mama, I dreamt that daddy was home and we were all happy.”

I had to admit, it made me cry. I’ve always tried to not cry in front of her like I did, but this time, it was alright to cry. It was beautiful that Noah was in her dreams too, because at least I wasn’t the only one. I felt a little happier to know that Scarlett was still happy and always thought of her father. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that. I even told Elena and George about the letter, and the gift Noah had left for Scarlett. They thought it was precious, of course, and it made them think of their son even more. It made them feel whole and as for me, almost because I still had some learning to do.

I wanted to tell Frank about this, but I didn’t. I didn’t even want to call him nor did I wanted to see him. Although I kelp in mind of what he had said to me about him being a part of my life and that it was all a very good purpose. I still needed to find that purpose and so I opened up another letter.

Third letter: April 21st, 1944

Dear Kelsey,

Today I met a young man named, Joel Fisher. I was sitting outside, sharpening a pocket knife with a stick. He seemed curious to what I was doing and so, he came on beside me and began to talk to me. Joel didn’t know who I was, it’s been quite some time since we’ve been here in Rome, and we haven’t met before. I thought it was quite strange, too and so, we talked for a while. I told him about you, Scarlett and how I love art. Joel listened. He seemed so interested, I felt like I had bonded with the perfect person at this point of time, after being far away from your family. Joel had also told me about his brother Frank and how he’s a fine musician. Frank plays the piano. We would have to meet him once I come home, it would be lovely.

Soon, we all leave here and head off to Normandy. I shall write to you soon before that, I promise. I love you all so very much and I miss you dearly. Until then, my love.

--Noah

I couldn’t believe it and Frank never told me, that he plays the piano. I needed to speak to Frank, no matter how a little upset I was for his righteousness. Music is art too. I never would’ve thought that Frank was an artist. Few days later, Frank stopped by with take-out burger and fries. He wanted to check up on me, since we haven’t spoken to each other for a couple of days. It was the perfect timing to ask about his artistic abilities. “Frank,” I called his name, gently. “I want you to teach me the piano.”