Letters to Dad

Hello, Dad.

It's me again, Aldur. I can't sleep tonight. I've been lying awake in my bed for a while now. The memories of my past haunt me at night. The memories you've caused me. They all resurface the at the time of rest. But tonight there are a few in particular that haunt me and chill me to my bone. They make me shiver even on this hot summer night.

I was only four. Do you remember it? The first time I wondered about the "tall toskals"? Of course you do. I was your first child after all, you doted on me like I was some kind of Saint. Do you remember me asking? "Hey daddy?" 

"Yes, Aldur?" 

"Why are those toskals tall like you? Some are even taller! But they don't have any horns?"

"You'll learn when you're older, son."

I was once again such an impatient child. I did not want to wait until I was older. But I did. You didn't tell me until I was five and a half. Why you waited until then I will never know. Why you didn't tell me when you showed me the horrors that you commit in that vile dungeon of yours I will never know. Did you try to spare some ounce of innocence, Dad? Did you try to let me go a little bit longer without having to endure more trauma? I think it would have been easier if you told me all at once to be honest. Why did you have to draw it out? 

Well, the Why doesn't matter I guess. What happened is what happened. No matter what you do now can change that. But... I can't help but ponder and think about it. I wonder if knowing will ease the pain that these memories cause me. Do you know, Dad? Do you know why you waited so long? Do you know why you did it at all? Were you jealous? Afraid? Angry? Or just plain brutal? For some reason, I feel as though it may be all these things.

While grotesque in nature and quite upsetting to think about, I really must admit, your collection grew to be impressive. I remember even as a child I marveled at all the different horns you had displayed on your shelf. They were beautifully adorned with dyed leathers and clothes. The more intricate ones were bathed with gems and jewels alike. 

There was one horn in particular that always caught my eye though. A singular blue horn with a white tip sitting on the far right side of the shelf. It appeared to be broken off from the base, instead of carved out. I always wondered the story behind it. Is that the one that got away? Is that the one that you couldn't inflict your brutality on? Honestly, I'm not sure that I want to know where you obtained that horn from. 

It also makes me wonder, why didn't you dehorn Mom? What was it in her that you saw? Was she not a threat? Were her horns not pretty enough? You have some fairly ugly ones on your shelf, Dad. That couldn't be it. Did you meet her before you went mad? Did you go mad? Or were you born like this? So many questions with so few answers. I doubt you'll offer a satisfactory answer to any of these questions. But it doesn't hurt to try I presume.

Aldur sighs heavily at his plea for an answer. "It sounds so...pathetic," He says quietly under his breath. "Aldur? Honey?" A soft and recognizable voice can be heard from around the corner. A moment later a common female toskals head peeks around the corner to spy Aldur hunched over his desk, feather pen gripped tightly between his fingers. Her voice is laced with concern as she says his name again, "Aldur?" 

Aldur sighs again, but this time of relief rather than discontent. "Hello, Ruby." Ruby steps into the room cautiously, unable to read how Aldur is feeling at the moment. "Are you ok, dear?" She asks him, continuing to be cautious around him. She keeps her volume low and calm. "I'm... yeah. I'm ok. I think," Aldur responds to his girlfriend. "Oh, ok. Well, if you need anything just let me know." Ruby turns and begins to leave when Aldur beckons for her. 

"Actually, could you read these over for me?" He pulls out the letter he wrote to his father previously and hands it to her. "As well as this one," he hands the letter he is currently writing to her as well. He looks at her nervously, anxiously as she fumbles with the letters trying to open them as carefully as possible. He looks down at the ground and plays with his hands like a little kid may do when they are in trouble. After a few minutes of silence, Aldur assumes she's done reading and just unsure how to answer, so he prods her, "So... what do you think?" he asks as he looks up at her, breaking his eye contact with the floor beneath his feet.

She looks down at the ground in exchange much like Aldur did, and shrugs softly. He eyes her suspiciously, unsure of what that means. "I don't know what a shrug means, Ruby." She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but instead chooses to stay quiet. "Is it really that bad?" Aldur whines. She looks back up at him sheepishly. "Aldur, I can't read this." He looks at her in semi disbelief. She has both written and read things before, what does she mean she can't read this? "I don't understand," Aldur says, somewhat hurt, thinking that it is something personal with him.

She senses his hurt feelings in his voice. "Aldur, I think I need to tell you something," She sighs heavily as if she's letting go of a great weight off her shoulders, "I can't see it." Aldur looks at her visibly puzzled. "I... What do you mean? Elaborate?" Ruby puts on a fake smile in an attempt to reassure him, but it doesn't seem to work. She sighs again. "I'm going blind, Aldur. I can't see anything close to me, and I struggle to see things further out as well. 

Aldur struggles to find his words, unsure if he should try to comfort her or let the gravity of the situation sink in. "I'm...I'm sorry. How long have you known? How long has this been going on?" 

"A few months."

"I see. I don't know what to say if I'm being honest," Aldur admits.

"You don't have to say anything, dear. It's ok. I'll be ok." She kisses his forehead and places the papers back on his desk. "I'm going to go to bed now, it's late. Are you going to be alright?" 

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Aldur lies as he puts on a fake smile. Ruby smiles back and leaves the room. Aldur grabs his pen again with shaking hands, unsure how to process the situation.

I have just received very bad news, Dad. I can't continue writing for the foreseeable future. I am sorry. 

 - Your son, Aldur.