That Night

My name is John, I am eighty years old. I'm deaf and mute. My daughter keeps me locked up twenty-four hours a day in an old bunker that we have in the house. Here I have my bathroom and she feeds me at certain times; she opens a small compartment she designed and puts the food there. I can't see anyone and I can't go anywhere. I have lived almost forty years without seeing my daughter. I know she has children, I have managed to see them through a tiny hole that the place has, but I am sure they don't even know about my existence. I write this because it is the only thing that makes me feel free.

My daughter hates me and I know why.

When she was fifteen years old, I was an alcoholic. One day I just remember, I woke up and went to wake her up in her room. She cried when she saw me and was terrified of me, without letting me say a word or without remembering what had happened, she took a knife and locked me in here. She closed with padlocks and never again let me out. She keeps me locked up and doesn't wants to see me. I can't tell her anything since inside this place there is absolutely no way to communicate with her. I have tried it by knocking on the door and when the food arrives she puts me notes where she says that if I do not keep silent I will have consequences. When I do this, she leaves me without any food.

My wife passed away when she was very young and from there my alcoholism began. I did not take care of her as I should have and she was always the one who did all the housework and chores while I went out to look for sustenance, but I always returned home drunk. I haven't drank since that moment when my daughter locked me up here, so I've had a lot of time to think about how I wasted my life. Above all, how I left her alone at some point in hers, but today I made the most important decision: I will gift her my absence, what she has always wanted. I have kept my faith that things will change, but today, I have lost it.

I found a rope in this place, perhaps it is very old, but I am sure it will be able to support my weight while I end my agony. I'm sure you will get a great surprise when you enter this place and realize that I have written this story in my own blood. What I've been trying to explain her, that I didn't do it and that I would like as much as her to find that bastard who ruined her life. Despite everything, she was always a girl full of dreams and illusion. Although I could never hear her sweet voice, I remember how she looked at me with astonished eyes and excitedly told me some things. I knew it from the movement of her mouth, but I never appreciated that, I just dedicated myself to drowning in the world of alcohol.

I have spent several days thinking about what I am about to do. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl (have goosebumps), but I have no other alternative. I have spent days in which illnesses make me suffer in an unimaginable way.

My child, when you read this, you will understand that I am aware of how much I've deserved what you've done. I understand your reasons, your feelings and I'm sorry for being the man who ended your light, you deserve much more, but I can only give you the truth.

The night before you locked me up here, I took your uncle home. I’m sure I never told you, I had a twin brother. I remember I didn't even take you to meet your grandmother. We were drinking like we used to, we rarely saw each other, you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you up. I felt so drunk that I couldn't even get up from the couch. I remember that your uncle asked me to give him permission to enter the bathroom and I pointed it out, but I clearly saw how he entered your room, although the alcohol won me over. The next day I did not remember anything of what happened, but I knew why you brought me to this place with a knife in your hand, I could see your pijamas stained with blood in your intimate areas. It was there that I realized the great mistake I had made by bringing your uncle, a man identical to me, with the worst intentions.

Since then I have tried to explain that I am not the man you hate so much, the one you want to see dead, the one who took away your childhood and your way of seeing life. I know you are a cold woman because you have never bothered to look at me. I know that you also hate your father and that you want to see him lifeless, but you are not capable of doing it yourself. I know that at that moment, the despair and fear let you make the decision to lock me in this cold place and to prevent me from hurting you again. You have never let me out. But the day you enter here, if you dare to do it, you will know the truth and although I would like to hate you for what you have done, I love you and I understand why you did it.

My decision is made. I hung the rope over a bar in the bunker, put it around my neck and launched myself into the void from a place high enough not to let me touch the ground. I'm starting to get dizzy and feel like I'm short of breath. Suddenly I faint and lose consciousness. At last I will be free and I hope that at some point my girl can read what I have written for her; forgive me and know that I always loved her and will love her. I can't ask you the same, but I do want you to know the truth.

Alejandra Castro and David Artuz, Step 9 Yellow.