The Death of Us

by C.A. Mariah

I’ve never written a letter before. I had no one that wanted to hear from me. To be honest, I don’t know why I’m writing you this, Bun. I should tell you to your face, but I don’t think I could get the words out. I was taken to Marone in the back of a van. Did I tell you that? I was supposed to meet Bruno—Nathan— in front of the barn he found me in. Instead, I was grabbed from the road on my way there, hood thrown over my head and arms bound before I could throw the first punch. The torture began almost immediately. I can still feel the first blade sinking into my skin. It’s a burn I’ll never forget, and whatever drive I had for freedom died with the chunk ripped from me. I didn’t feel that spark again until I met you. Truth be told, I didn’t feel alive until then, either. You’re a fucking force, you know? I’m glad. As fucked as it is to say, I’m glad Marone took me because it gave me you. And now we’re doing this, and they’re paying for what they’ve done, and I’m scared, Bun. I’m scared because I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you. I won’t tell you this now. You won’t even get this until we’ve finished. Not because I don’t want you to know, but because I won’t be the reason you stop. Not when they’ve done so much to you. I can handle my pain, but yours is one I can’t survive. You’re sleeping now, and for once, I feel no fear from you. I dream of the nights I can look over and never see that fear again. I know we’ll have that, Bun. I know when this is done, I’ll roll ...