Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Tuct Side - 40. Letters
The following is a collection of unsent letters written by the late Antonio Morterero-Rabellino, former Tuct Side Saturns leader, who died on July 4th, 2004 in an unsolved homicide.
December 1st, 2002
I went to visit Jaime and his wife and kids a few days ago. They all seem to be doing better than ever. Mi hermano is now the governor of New York, Adara is still sweet and head over heels for him, and the kids seem to be getting along. A lot different from my own. It’s honestly quite strange seeing such a normal, happy, and loving family. I never thought that that kind of future was in the cards for either of us, but my brother managed it. He was always the rebellious one, shirking off his duties to play guitar in the streets just to stick it up to Papaito. I can admit that for just a small second, for a tiny moment, I thought about abandoning the Saturns like he did.
But I knew it was too late for me, and my tainted blood seems to have finally kicked in with my sons. Lacia, my wife, is even more distant than ever. She had been lively for the first time in a while when we went to visit Jaime and his family, but now she’s back to being a shut-in. Javier doesn’t seem to mind – nothing really gets to him these days – and Jorge doesn’t seem to notice. My youngest son was… jumpy after the visit. As if he didn’t want to leave his cousins’ house.
To me, that was a sign.
A sign that I could possibly stop what was to come next. If only for a little while. But Saturn business runs deep, and we’re spreading like an infection.
Lo siento, mi hermano.
June 14th, 2003
I failed. And now, I am unredeemable. Destined for hell. To suffer for all eternity and beyond.
My older brother is dead, and his blood is all over my hands. But what has sealed my fate was Iliana, my brother’s youngest. Just two-years-old.
And I snuffed it out.
I should have stopped him. Jaime’s been adamant about fighting gang activity in New York. It was a middle finger to our father, who now lays six feet underground and laughing. I can only find relief in the fact that Jaime won’t be joining him. I could say that my old man forced me, but I was the one with the gun. Why was it so much easier to shoot a man through his back and into the chest of his baby girl than a frail, elderly man in his deathbed?
Lacia’s gone. Though, I think it wasn’t just Jaime and Iliana’s death that hit her the hardest. It was the fact that she knew. She knew who had killed them in cold blood. She could smell the guilt. And now she’s gone, left to me and the boys to live with her brother, Alonso. He never liked me, saying my business would end up ruining her life, and he was right.
I am a destroyer. A thief. And there is no coming back.
Javier had no other reaction but a shrug. It was just daily news to him. Jorge’s was more appropriate. He wanted to go back to New York to see his cousins. My youngest was already a better person. The infection hasn’t taken root in him yet, and it’s all thanks to my brother’s family. Maybe there was still time to save him.
Maybe here in Tuct Side, Idaho, my boy can break the cycle.
August 25th, 2003
What was I expecting? I shouldn’t have expected anything.
Because I am still here. And as long as I’m alive, the poison spreads.
Lacia had the right idea moving to Maine. It would have gotten to her, too. The divorce papers only cemented the fact that she wasn’t coming back.
Yeah. She knew.
Adara has changed, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better for her. Not even moving away from New York to Tuct Side. Why should it? I took away her husband and daughter, and now she has to walk past their killer every day now. Bran and Neil, her boys, are taking the brunt of it, but my kids seem to have taken them under their wing. Javier and Bran are two peas in a pod, going around town to cause trouble. I had to bail them out of police custody once already. Jorge seems to have wrapped himself around little Neil. The poor, young boy was a trembling mess when they got here.
I just hope they don’t get infected, too.
July 3rd, 2004
Jaime always liked Independence Day. The fireworks, the cooking, the celebration. But I always felt like he loved it for a deeper reason. He was free all his life, not weighed down by the atrocities around him He was able to get a girl and start a family while my father’s burdens sat on my shoulders. Mi hermano knew that. Saw it. He was going to help me. Said it to my face months before I… before he died that once he became governor, he was going to take all that weight off my shoulders.
What have I done?
Oh god. What have I done?
Tonight, I pray for retribution.
It’s time to take my place beside the Devil.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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