Dear Clarisa, it read,
I’m sorry. I've tried everything I could, and I've been trying for too long. You've done your best to help me, and I think you're a wonderful person, but I just don't see how this is going to work out. I may appear moodier on some days and better on others, but the truth is my depression never does go away. I don't think we can force someone to keep holding on if it means for them to suffer for the rest of their lives. I've tried my best, you've tried your best, and I write this to tell you that I'm so sorry. I really don't mean to hurt you or my mother, you two are the only people I don't want to leave. I know it's selfish of me to do this after all we've been through, but I really don't have that strength to hold on anymore. From what I can tell there's never been a perceiver who survived depression, and I don't see what makes me so special that I can be the first. I’ll be the Darkness’ number one target. I won't last long anyway, it’ll be much wiser to surrender now. Once again I'm so sorry to upset you. It makes me sad that I have to go as well, but I just can’t see “the guiding light” after trying so hard to find it. Please don't take this personally. You’re absolutely amazing and you will continue to help lots of people, just not me.
Goodbye and thank you for everything.
Kathryn
The last line repeated itself in her head like a stuck record. Questions of where their weeks of progress had gone spun her round, and she thought she was going to lose her mind. As reality crumbled before her eyes, she nearly forgot that there was a second page.
Dear Clarisa, it continued,
That was a suicide note I wrote a day before our fifth session. During the forth one, you praised me for showing tremendous improvement, but honestly, at the time I was feeling the worst I had ever felt. I was ready to do it. I wrote two notes, one for my mom, but after an hour of contemplation, I decided to hold on for just one more day. Just one. I kept the notes in a drawer and went to bed. On the very next day, I realised that I could teleport.
Right now I can't believe I was that close to doing it. I didn't know what made me change my mind then, but now I believe that your influence is the only thing that could have stopped me. I've changed a lot since we first started out, and though my depression stays with me and probably will for the rest of my life, it's bothering me a lot less. I didn't know what I was holding onto, but because of you I held on anyway, and I guess that's all that matters.
This is probably unexpected, but thank you for bringing Jean-Simon Francis to my house and giving me the biggest fright of my life. Now that I've met him again after six years, he doesn't seem so scary anymore, though he's still an insufferable brute. But really, I felt much better after screaming at him, and if you'd never broken your promise I'd never be feeling this fine.
Please don't break it again though.
I’m really looking forward to becoming an active perceiver. Working with you isn't gonna feel like work at all, I can already imagine. But as I said before, I have zero confidence in being half as good as you are at this job. But that's okay. I'm already making elaborate plans on starting up that research centre in Germany.
You're the bravest, kindest, wisest and most beautiful person I know. I sound like a fangirl but it's true. It's known that the most beautiful people have gone through hell, and for a long time I’ve been wanting to know your story. That horrific night I realised that you could feel pain. I mean duh, everybody feels pain, but until then, you had never let yours show. I can tell that a few of the monsters of your past are still haunting you today, just as mine does. That was your Fact One, I think. Being the best perceiver in your department must be hard, and I want to remind you that since we're officially friends now, this relationship is two-way. I can be your counsellor whenever you need me to.
Just one question before I end this: If I had committed suicide, where would I have gone? What happens to me afterwards? Does the Darkness claim my soul? Does it conquer me, or am I invited to join it? Is suicide wrong? What makes it wrong? Would you have forgiven me if I’d done it?
I’ve forgotten that this is supposed to be a Christmas letter. Oops.
Best wishes and happy holidays!
Love,
Kathryn
(P.S. I took your cat out to play while you were asleep last night. Don't worry, it wasn't harmed.)
~fin~
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