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I’m not supposed to do this, but anyways, here I am.
It’s weird, to write a letter to someone who’ll never be able to read it. I didn’t want to in the first place, just the thought made me feel uncomfortable. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say in this letter, or maybe I was just to afraid to put on the paper all my deepest thoughts, even if I know that you’ll never read this. Still, there’ll be things in this letter that I didn’t want you to know, but it’s time for me to tell you the truth. Even if it’s too late now, but maybe not.
So, I don’t know where to start. Fugo actually advised me to give it a try, he told me some weird psychological stuff about how to deal with traumas or something like that and he came out with this idea of the letter. You know, he’s such a weird kid, but I really enjoy his company anyway, and he’s just to grateful to me because I kind of saved his life a few months ago. He’s still a child, not even 14, and he’s acutally the only person that ever showed me some type of affection since I was 12. I find it kinda cute, the way he tried to help me, sitting beside me and trying to understand what was the matter with me. I’m doing this for him honestly, he was so worried and if he thinks that this will help me, then I’ll give it a try.
Today was, aside from Fugo being a nice, worried, cute little thing with me, a depressing day. Well, in fact all the days I spend without you are depressing, but today… today there was something more, something that made me realise how in pain I am since you definitely left. Today was my 18th birthday. I’m officially and legally an adult now, even if that really doesn’t change anything in my life, as I’ve been doing very adult-things for ages already. It should have been the most important birthday in my life, a beautiful, happy birthday. But it wasn’t. It was the first birthday I spend alone. I had Fugo, but I mean… you were not here with me. I didn’t do enough to protect you, and you missed your son’s 18th birthday.
I know you cared deeply about me, I know you loved me always, and I know that you wanted to be here with me on my birthday. You were such a good dad, dad… I swear, you were the best dad in the world. I miss you everyday, but today I missed you even more. I’m an adult now, I’ve become one a long ago, but even after all the pain, as long as you were alive I had always considered myself your little child. I’m an adult now, I’ve lost you and I’m not a little baby anymore. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to grow up, not without you, I don’t want to say goodbye, I don’t want to. You’ve missed a big part of my childhood, my adolescence, and you’re not here to support me during my adult age. And it’s my fault.
You didn’t have to give your life for mine. You sacrificed all of you, to give me a bright future, but you didn’t have too. You worked all day for me, you accepted all kind of humiliation, working even for a very few money, just to guarantee me decent studies and a stable life. You did it because you were a good man, and you loved me, your only child, the only one you had left in your life. You did this to give me the happy life that you couldn’t have, to make your baby happy after everyone, even mom, abandoned us. You did this because you thought I was a good son. But I’m not. You didn’t have to waste your life for such a scum of a son as I am. I’m not worth your sacrifice dad, and now you’re gone, the world has lost his most precious man, and it was my fault. You didn’t deserve that fate, and I didn’t deserve you as a father.
You wouldn’t like the man I’ve become. You would hate the man I’ve become. The little Bruno you knew no longer exists, he died even before you did, he died at the age of 12 and the one who’s writing this letter is a new, dirty, stupid fucking alter ego of your son. It’s a shame, that in my veins still flows your own blood, I’m not worth being considered the son of such a good and respectable man as you are. You wouldn’t want to be my dad, after what I’m going to say in this letter. I want to tell you the truth, dad, I want to tell you everything about the monster I’ve become, I want you to know how fucked up your son is, and I want you to hate me, and forget about me.
I do still believe in God, in paradise and stuff like that. If you are an angel now, and I’m sure you are, please ignore me. I don’t deserve your benevolence, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, you don’t have to waste anymore of you for me any longer. I don’t want you to see me now with your eyes, but I want you to know, you deserve to know the truth at least now.
I don’t even know where to start, I’ve done so many shit. I did a very big mistake as a child, dad, and the rest came after that innocent mistake I did when I was too young to understand were my life was going. I did it with the best purpose, I swear to God, but I miscalculated the situation. I can’t really blame me for that though, I was little, scared, innocent, you didn’t teach me how to deal with such things… You taught me kindness, honesty, hardworking… I wasn’t prepared, but it’s not a valid justification for what I did. I… swore loyalty to Passione, I became a mafioso.
Actually, I did something terrible even before I entered Passione, right beside your holy hospital bad. I killed two people dad, right beside you, when I was twelve. I killed them with a knife, without any hesitation. But, while I regret joining Passione, I don’t regret massacring those bastards. I don’t regret making them pay the highest price for having hurt you, I don’t regret having punished them and making them suffer as you did because of them, I don’t regret anything of that homicide, on contrary I’d do it again and again.
See, I’m a fucking homicidal psychopath. You didn’t teach me hate, but my heart was so full of misery back then, and even now. I dirtied my hands with blood that day, and I did it again many other times, always with the purpose of protecting you, from the exact same persons I was working for. What a fool, right? I sold myself to the people who hurt you, thinking that is was the best thing to do to protect you. Stupid. I was stupid, I am stupid.
I was scared. I was so scared, dad. I was completely alone, and I didn’t know what to do. I had blood on my hands, you were in danger, the police wouldn’t listen to me, I just wanted to die, I was 12 and I wanted to die. But I decided not to kill myself and waste my life, but to sacrifice it for a greater purpose –protecting you- as you decided to do when I was a child.
I did many horrible things for them, dad, not only killing people. I dirtied myself in every way possible. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I want to throw up. When I look at your pictures and I see how my I resemble you esthetically, I want to throw up. You were not like this, you were not a filthy little bastard who doesn’t deserve anything but disdain, I don’t deserve this resemblance with you. I hate to see your eyes in mine, I don’t want to look at my face, deformed by my crimes, and see your judgmental look on me. I don’t want to be a disgrace to you, but I am. And again, I won’t ask your forgiveness, I want you to hate me and the asshole that I am as much as you can, no matter that I’m your son.
I don’t know how to tell you certain things that I did. I’d love not to tell you, but what would be the point of my confession, if I omit the a big portion of my horrors. Yes, dad, I did thing even worse than homicide, things so horrid that I… I don’t know how to say it, dad.
I hate me, dad. I hate everything about me, I want to rip off my skin, I want to burn myself until every sign of what I did disappears. I said that I want you to hate me, and that is what I deserve… but, dad, please… I’m so sorry… I failed you, I’m a whole failure, but I didn’t know what I was doing… I couldn’t understand, dad, please, I just wanted to be with you, I just wanted that to end, every time they touched me, every time they made me touch them, every time they gave me to others, every time I had to go on mission, every time I held a gun to kill, every time I touched their dirty money… You know I’m not like this, right? I’m not like this, the Bruno you raised was not like this. Don’t be ashamed of me, don’t be ashamed of your son please, dad, you’re my everything, you were… the only one I had left. Hate me, hate the Bruno that I am now, but please don’t hate your child, don’t hate your little Bruno, don’t hate the son you’ve sacrificed yourself for, don’t hate the loving innocent child I once was and that you knew.
Please, don’t you try to think that you failed as a father. You did your best, you gave me everything you had, and you didn’t raise the filthy homicidal whore that I am now. You did well, dad, it’s just my fault. I’m sorry I sold this body to them, a body created in your image and likeness, I’m sorry I let them violate your boy until he lost his mind, I’m sorry I let your child having blood on his once innocent hands, I’m sorry.
I was thinking about killing myself lately. I thought about this possibility many times, but I couldn’t to this before you died, because I still had that naïve, stupid, innocent hope that I could be able to protect you. They had promised, dad, when I first knocked at their door, that they would have protected you as long as I was submitting to them. I had no one left, we had no one left… I sold myself, and they didn’t keep their promise and they let you go. And now I want to break my promise too, and I want to leave them and stay with you, wherever you are, because I’m in so much pain, dad, and I can’t take it any longer. Without you, I have no reason to live, no reason to take all this pain. I told himself that that was enough, to try keeping you alive, that it was a good reason to keep living like that, to keep living the same life of a filthy abandoned dog. I hoped that you would woke up from your coma eventually, that you would hug me and that you would be proud of your son, who suffered all the pain possible all by himself just to protect his beloved dad. I hoped that you would understand, and that you would be proud of me, of his strong, brave son. How naive. How could I think that something that fool would happen? There was nothing to be proud of. Even if you woke up at some point, you would never be proud of me, not after what I did, not after what I saw, not after what I endured. I sold himself to the enemy, like the unworthy whore I had become. And that was just fine to me, because they told me that it was the price for your safety. And opening my fucking legs like a fucking prostitute as a fucking child was ok to me, dad, the pain never stopped me from loving you, from wanting to protect you. Now, it’s too difficult. It’s too difficult to ignore the pain, it’s too difficult to ignore the shame, killing someone makes me want to throw up, seeing the bloods on my hands makes me want to end my life as well.
I was thinking about killing myself, but there are a few reasons why I won’t do it. First of all, I’m afraid of what will happen to me in the afterlife. I don’t want to go to hell, dad. I’m living in hell here on Earth, I have to deal with rape, tortures, abuses, drugs, I don’t want the afterlife to be even worse… I don’t want to be in pain anymore, I just want this to end… Plus, I’m afraid of seeing you, in the afterlife. I’m afraid of your judgment, afraid of looking in to your eyes again after all of this… I don’t want to disappoint you, I don’t want you to look at me with hate and disgust. I can’t take the idea of hearing your voice again, cracked because of the shame, scolding and condemning me for crimes I never wanted to commit. I don’t want you to look at me like an unworthy prostitute, too, I swear dad… I swear I never, ever, wanted… any of this. It was a mistake, I was small, I didn’t know… and I can’t escape from this situation at all.
But another reason that keeps me from killing myself here and now, as fast as I can, is Fugo. The boy I’ve rescued from the streets, the one who made me write this thing today. It’s not the same, but I see you in him. I think it’s my own nature, I need to take care of people as the goal of my existence. I’ve been doing this since you and mom divorced, do you remember? And well, I think I need to do this, protecting who’s in a worse situation that I am. Fugo was abused too, just like me, but I’m an adult now and he’s still a child. I’m the only one he has left, and… and he is the only one I have left. I just can’t leave him like this, in this criminal world I dragged him into to try to protect him. I can’t leave him to them, not after his past, I don’t want him to feel the same pain I feel everyday. I want to protect him, as I wanted to protect you. I hope I won’t fail him too, please dad… give me the strength to take this pain a bit longer, for this poor kid.
I may be an hypocrite, selling myself to the same ones who hurt you to keep them from hurting you again, or dragging little Fugo with me in the mafia to keep him from dying in the streets. But… it’s everything I can do. I’m still the same as 6 years ago, a scared child with no power. And I love you dad, no matter what, no matter how hypocrite my actions may seem, I love you. And I love little Fugo too. I’m sorry I failed you, dad. Just, know that your baby really loves you… please, don’t be mad at me…
Hope to meet you again soon, somewhere.
I hope to be a better person when we’ll meet again, a person you can be proud of.
With all my love for you, my super dad.
Your son, Bruno
PS: Also, I’ve contacted mom… She’s in Milan now, and she’s ok. We couldn’t talk too much because she was cocking for her new husband, and he doesn’t really like me. I told her that you’re gone, and she was so worried about me… I want to go live with her, dad, but I can’t put her and her new family in danger. She has two new kids, Sara and Michele, and she told me that they want to meet their big brother. God, I wish I could… I had to tell her lots of lies, and I’ve done so crying. She doesn’t know I’m living a literal hell, or I’m sure she will come back here and get into troubles to save me. Or I like to think about that, that she still cares about me… I burned her phone number after we finished talking, and I’m trying to forget it as fast as I can. I won’t talk to her anymore, I won’t be able to lie to her again. I miss her, I miss the times we were happy, just the three of us back in the village… I can’t put that memories aside again, dad. I need her hugs, I need your hugs, I want to be small again in your arms, and I want to forget about the pain and be raised as a normal, happy child. Would she accept me after all of this? Would she love me again? I will never know… I said goodbye to her, and she told me to call her more often, because she missed my voice. I hope she won’t be sad, because I won’t call again. I hope she will just forget about me, about her biggest failure, and keep going with the happy life she’s created without me.
I love you both, dad. Why did you left me..? Why us? Why our family? You think I’ll ever have a happy life on my own? With little Fugo as my little brother maybe… I just want to feel that kind of love again. I miss you.
Goodbye, this time for real, dad.