Simon’s Millennium Letter
There’s only one thing I can think about writing. I can’t write about anything else for this bloody stupid box of Caroline’s. It’s on my mind day and night. Where is she? What has happened to her? I daren’t go back there, but I have to know.
I’m sure I couldn’t have killed her. It would have been in all the papers if I had and the police would be crawling all over the village. Oh God, what if she’s dead and no one’s found her yet? What if she’s lying there, stiff, cold, decaying….oh stop it, I can’t bear it. I mustn’t think about it. If I keep thinking about it, I’ll feel I have to check and I can’t go back there. I can never go back to that awful house. Oh God!
But Helen hasn’t mentioned Mary for ages and when I asked if she had seen her recently she said she thought she must have gone away after the exhibition and she didn’t know where she was. So she must be alright. She must have recovered. Of course she’s got over it.
I never meant to hit her anyway. It was just a simple accident and it would never have happened if she hadn’t laughed like that. I will never forget her dreadful words and her cruel laughter. Oh God, I can still hear it. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
And if she has died….well, I don’t care…. In fact I hope she is dead. We were all perfectly happy before she came. Helen was happy, the children were happy and I was happy. I saved Helen at her lowest point and gave her a family and security. We didn’t need that interfering woman trying to change things and telling us how to live our lives. We’d all be better off if she was dead.