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Letter No.14

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Letter No.14 |

My dearest Sven,

they hit me. Beat me up like a dog. My lower lip has burst in two places, I have a laceration on my forehead and probably a black eye. You probably won’t want to hang today’s sketch on your wall, but I wanted to record it when I made it home. Senseless brutality, cruelty without rhyme or reason… they beat what they don’t understand.

They caught me after school, headed me off. I don’t know how they found out. Maybe they didn’t even know yet until they threw me to the ground and Martin found one of your letters in my jacket’s breastpocket. Having to hear him read your tender words, his voice full of mockery and hatred, while the two others were battering me… it was the most dreadful moment of my life.

I still have the letter. They left it lying next to me, crumpled up, torn and stained with my blood. The notion that they could soil a symbol of your love like that makes me sick. I hold it in my hands again and again and I begin to tremble and to cry. My tears forge a path through the blood on my face… I cry because I love you, because I can’t help loving you, wouldn’t want to even if I could – and that seems reason enough to beat me, to kick me and spit on me.

And now my tears are washing away at least some traces of their cruelty… just like my love will one day wash your letter until it is clean again. It may be stained forever, but I won’t let them take it from me.

I hope I can talk to Marie soon. I haven’t seen her since our conversation, other than at school. She is very busy these days, seems very stressed and a little colder than usual. I hope I see her again soon. I have to confide in somebody about this, and it certainly won’t be my parents.

I should wash my face before they come home.

In blood and tears, but always in love,


© Severin Buchenau 2022-05-21


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