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Dear mom,
Iâm glad you died
Itâs not your fault
Our society isnât made to help people like you
Your murder was just one failure among many by a society that determines our hands before the cards are dealt
A society that kills us all before weâre even born
if we happen to be born needing help
You never got that help
that help was never there
The only thing that was there were the cops
who were friends with Ski, Markâs dad
who was connected to the police in a way that you never really explained to me
so everything conveniently was swept under the rug
Even the time the house was set on fire
less than 6 months from when I moved in with you
four days before Christmas
two days after school had let out
My friends across the lake thought the red and blues were our Christmas decorations
until they remembered
Clear as day on the recording
âMy stepdad set the house on fireâ
but even that wasnât enough
a convenient explanation that I âmisunderstoodâ
or âmisspokeâ
knowing full well I spoke the truth
Three more years of the same
Calling the police and nothing happening
I became an expert at patching walls
and an expert at building them
walls between me, you, mark
walls between me and the friends I had and could have had as one in the same
Eventually it happened
You pushed me
I pushed back
I was bigger by then, bigger than you realized
bigger than I realized
until I did
I remember you yelling for chewy
yelling for the man who eventually killed you to protect you
as I closed myself in my room
and called my dad to pick me up
after heâd dropped me back off the weekend before
and he knew he never should have left
I agreed to go to therapy after that
and still do
We barely talked after that
just an occasional five minute call
where neither of us were sure of what to say
you always asked why I left
and I always avoided the question
because you knew the answer
You never got better
not even after we involuntarily committed you
stripped you of your agency
ripped you from the arms
of the geriatric man
that Iâm still not sure how you were conning him
Not even after you supposedly were getting better
Not after cory told me that you were doing better
Not after I wrote you off
as someone who couldnât be fixed
as someone who wouldnât be fixed
as someone already on borrowed time
We still donât know what actually happened that night
why chewy was there
what set off the argument
we only know the outcome
that youâre gone
it wasnât your fault
you didnât ask for abusive men or to be assaulted as a child
you didnât ask for the bipolar disorder
that cruelly made it even harder
for you to overcome itself
to overcome yourself
it wasnât your fault
that the police valued their own
to protect and serve their own
it wasnât your fault
that youâd voted time and time again
for those who let you suffer
it wasnât our fault
there was nothing we could say or do
thatâd make you change your mind
thatâd make you accept our help
thatâd make you get help
thatâd make you âbetterâ
it wasnât his fault
he could have been any of the men from before
I canât imagine what he felt when he realized what happened
what he did
what waited for him as the honduran man
who murdered a white woman
Having known him
through what little we were able to communicate
in his broken english and my non-existent spanish
he hadnât hit you before then
he hadnât hit you when I was there
why did he do it then?
Having known
the guilt I felt just from pushing you
I canât imagine what he felt
what he feels now
just over ten years
after his mistake
and twelve years
after mine
You deserved so much more
We all deserve so much more
Even if it happened again today
as it does happen again every day
the outcome would be the same
nothing has changed
You would still fall through the cracks
Never getting connected to the services youâd need
Never getting anything more than a warning
from the cops Iâd call
Never getting help
because there was no help to receive
Iâm glad you died
because itâd still be the same if you hadnât.