The winters in my ancestral home of England were much harsher than those I could remember in Louisiana, and the snow was much thicker.
I tried to get out but the fact your foot steps were sort of obvious I didn't risk it. I wasn't stupid. I fell into a momentary insanity in my sleep. Haunted by the blood.
I dreamed of the blood covering my body, it stuck to every pore and congealed, it filled my mouth and poured down my throat. I'd wake in a cold sweat and shaking. I considered killing myself sometimes as I stood my my window and watched the coaches passing my window.
I resolved to write a letter to Hephzibah and one to my father.
To Dear Hephzibah,
I'm sorry I haven't written earlier, I have been busy in the old country. I have managed to find work in the docks repairing rigging and sails, I also help put cargo on the ships before they sail. I hope my friend who will deliver this to you will find you well. I expect by now you will have become quite large with child. I have enclosed a sum of money to help you, you should find a bank note worth ten pounds. I wish I wasn't taunted my memories of you and the child I have given you but I do believe that I couldn't be the man you wished I could be, hopefully this should ease it a bit.
from your dearest friend Paethos
PS. As of yet my search for my mother has been unfruitful, I am writing to my father as well to ask him he knows anything.
I folded the bank note in half and slipped it in with the letter in the envelope. It was quite a sum of money but it was the most I could afford to give her at the time, most of it had actually be stolen from the whores I killed.
I sealed the envelope with sealing wax and pressed my fingerprint into it. Not that I didn't trust the carrier for my letters, but it put me at ease.
Then I realized that I hadn't actually even started my search for my mother. That was the reason I'd told my father that I was leaving the country, and it held some truth. After my birth she fled to England to be with her relatives. She left a note for my father about not being ready for married life with a baby and in this new country. You see, she was actually English. It seemed a very good reason when I left but I didn't think about it at all, so consumed by my gruesome tasks that I was.
I started my second letter that day and dabbed my pen in the ink to refresh the store.
To my father,
I am safe and well in England however my searches are yet unfruitful. Do you have any information on mother? I hope to find her and inform her of myself and then return to America. If I do not return in the next two years I don't think I shall. I have started a courtship with a very nice girl. You would approve or her. Her name is Hattie and she's the daughter of a local butcher here in Portsmouth. Myself, I have managed to get a job working in the dockyard repairing ships and loading cargo. It pays well enough.
Your son, Paethos.
I sealed the letter and placed both the letters in my breast pocket. Half of my father's letter was lies. I knew no Hattie's and wasn't contemplating relations with any girls. Both the letters were quite short but I knew of a trust-able member of the crew in a ship that set sail regularly for Louisiana and returned frequently.
I left my place of residence and went to the docks. I gave John the letters and paid him two shillings for his trouble. I knew that when he got to the port he would deliver the letters to the addresses I had printed on the the envelopes and would proceed to The Hag's Head and get plenty of beers with the money I gave him. I told him to ask a few days before they set sail again to call on Hephzibah and my father to see if they had replying letters.
I left him at the dockside and returned to my 'home'. I fell into fitful sleep peppered with my nightmares. I dreamed of draining the bloods of my family and covering myself in it, dancing around a bonfire. It gave me chills.