“A new beginning is the first step, and each choice is the next toward freedom.” – Clarissa Wild
Jay
Thursday, September 26th, 2013. 5:26 p.m.
My fingers tremble as I put the key in the P.O. box and hold my breath while I open the lock. I gaze inside. A few items lie on the bottom. A postcard, a folded paper note, a bank card, and a passport. I swallow before picking up the passport first. It seems like the least nerve-wracking option. I open it and find my own photograph inside, but not my name. It’s a fake ID, specifically tailored to match my descriptions. Blinking, I try to keep my heart rate steady as I take out the bank card. That too has the fake name on it. There’s a tiny note attached to the card with a code: one nine one four.
My whole body starts shaking when I reach the postcard and take it out. It’s a picture of a beach and a boat, but it doesn’t seem to be a professional photo. Instead, it looks like it was taken with your average phone. On the front it says, “Meet you in Galveston, Texas.”
Frowning, I flip it over.
“Find me here.”
Tears spring in my eyes, but I force them away as I tuck the items into my pocket and move on to the next item. The note. I think my heart sinks into my feet.
On the top it says “Do not open until after using the bank account.”
I’m tempted to do it anyway, but then I realize there might be something important I’m missing, which is connected to the bank account. Shit. Making sure there’s nothing left in the locker, I close the door and lock it again before running outside to the nearest ATM. I plug the card in and hurry to type the code. I’m amazed it works. What appears on the screen shocks me.
Millions and millions of dollars registered under this fake name to which I have the ID.
Frozen, I stare at the screen in total silence. This … I have access to all this? This new name … a new identity … a bank account filled with cash. I could start my business in Hawaii and realize my dream.
It feels unreal. Swallowing, I check the screen again. The last registered transactions coming to this account were from a bank account from someone called Azazel.
Frowning, I take a few sips of breath. Who is this? What a strange name. Is this even real? All this money … is it mine?
I look down at the note in my sweaty palms. If I open it, I might find out. My heart is going crazy, however. Just the thought of finding a message from X inside makes me nervous. I guess even after everything that happened I still have feelings for him.
I take the card out of the ATM and tuck it in my pocket. After blowing out a long, drawn-out sigh, I open the note and start reading.
“Jay,
I took a lot of things from you. I did it because I thought I wanted revenge. Like you said, I was blinded by hatred. But after being with you for such a long time, I remember what it was like to feel something other than spite. I remember why I wanted you in the first place. Your desires, your recklessness, your trust, your devotion, your lust, your love. You became my pet, and then my lover, and then my partner in crime. Somewhere along the line I forgot to give you the most important thing in life. Choice.
I did not come to you, because I want you to be able to choose without further influence from me. I want your choice to be honest and truthful. Even though I would like to see you again, what I desire most is for you to be happy, regardless of whether I am too.
I cannot claim your love. I can claim your body, your mind, your soul, but I could never claim your love. The one thing I needed most from you, but could never demand unless given freely.
Which is why I free you of the burden of forgiving me.
In this locker you’ll find everything you need to start anew. Forget who you were, start fresh. Use the money as you see fit. It’s all yours. I guess that’s one thing you can thank your father for. I gave you more than half of what he owned and sent the rest to the organization as a means to pay off his job. They won’t be coming after you anymore. Your life is safe now.
Me? At day I find myself at peace, listening to the sound of the water rippling close to me. At night I dream of your pink, flushed flesh, buried underneath me. If only I could spank that fine ass of yours one more time.
Alas, dreams are dreams. I’m enjoying my time sailing the ocean with my boat. The nurses at the hospital were quite good to me. They patched me up, and I slipped away unseen. It was an easy feat, considering no one knows who I am.
I lost one of my seven lives to that bullet. I don’t intend to lose the rest. So I’ve decided to enjoy what time I have left. I told myself this was what I would do when I retired, so I figured why not start early?
You’re welcome to join me, of course. I have to warn you, though, I am equally as driven to give you pleasure as I am to give you pain. The lust for blood will never disappear, but I know you can handle me now. The monster inside me will never disappear, but you know I love my little bird nonetheless.
Whatever you desire is yours. I wish to make you happy and will give you everything I own. If you return to me, all I have left to give to you is my heart. And a few chains and belts to be naughty with. But you’re free to do as you wish now. I won’t follow you. I won’t hold you back. I won’t tell you what to do. Make your own decision, just like I have made mine. I will wait for you. I have always waited for you.”
The note trembles in my hand as I look around for a second, trying to catch my breath. The sky is clear and full of opportunities. ‘What ifs’ fill my head with hope.
I encourage myself to read on before deciding, but then I realize that one line is all it takes. Everything is clear now.
“Now, little bird, make your choice.”
Life has always been about choices. The path we take cannot be undone. Consequences are a given. Personality is born.
I know who I am. I remember it all.
And so the choice is simple. I knew it all along.
I take off my work outfit and throw it in the bushes, tuck the note into my back pocket, and start walking. The past is behind me, erased from my memory, flown away with the wind. My father and anything bad can no longer hurt me. This is my time. This is my future. What I want is finally in my grasp.
The last words on the note stick with me, because they are precious. It is a secret I will carry with me to the grave and beyond. I am free.
“Forget about X. He no longer exists. I am the man who waits to begin anew, hopefully with you. And now you know my name.
Signed, Azazel.
PS: It’s the truth. I promise you I’m not the devil, although I do consider myself wicked … in a good way. Now you know why I never told you. My parents had a cruel sense of humor.”
