From: jzyvarek@udel.edu (Jzyvarek)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New Short:Namesake
Date: 7 Oct 1995 07:33:44 -0400
this one fell out of my brain. sorry, i couldn't stop it. you may all wish
i had. this is a depressing little bit that made me want to cry, ok, so i
came very,very,very close to crying and the only thing that stopped me is
that cc would never let this happen. the bastard...
disclaimer:none of this is mine. sue. and then you have to repay my
student loans while i go off to debtors prison...
ps- if this is really horrible, blame it on the fact that i sleep all day
and stay up all night and my criminal justice professor looks like
skinner... and acts like him too
here goes nothing. and just remember that i thrive on comments and i'm
really really lonely here... later,jessica ( jzyvarek@udel.edu)
Namesake
Jessica Zyvarek Taylor
Fox looked again at the grave and then back at the letter in his hand. He
felt bad. He didn't want to intrude. But he was curious. This was not the
grave of his father. This man had been dead for years before his parents
had even gotten married. He loved his mother and he wanted to know why,
through his entire life, his mother had come to this grave everyday and
put a single rose on it. It was like a ritual, even in the winter. It was
a ritual that his father had no idea about. He himself hadn't noticed
until he was in college. His mother was closed off to everyone. He had no
doubt that she loved himself and his little sister because she told them
and watched them like a hawk constantly. But in 35 years he'd never seen
his parents so much as hold hands. He didn't even notice that their
marriage was falling apart until his father moved out. They didn't yell or
scream or argue. Everything they said to one another was completely civil.
That may have been the problem. But now that he was an adult, he wondered
what had made her that way. He wondered why she never seemed to have any
feelings. When he'd noticed her at the cemetery a few years earlier, she
had gotten mad and demanded to know why he'd followed her. She never told
him who was buried there or why she went there. She'd later apologized and
explained that when people followed her, it made her nervous. And that had
seemed like a rational explanation. For weeks afterward, she'd watched him
and called him and checked to make sure that he was still alive and well.
He had not attended his father's funeral just a few weeks earlier. He'd
called to tell her why, but she had never returned his call. That worried
him, so he'd taken time off work to visit. When she didn't answer the
door, he thought she might be at the cemetery, visiting his father's
grave. She had been at the cemetery, but it was at the other grave. She
had a letter in her hand and he could see that she was crying so hard that
she was shaking. He wanted to run to her and see what was the matter, but
he had felt like an intruder. He had never seen her cry, and somehow, he
knew that was because she hadn't wanted him to. He doubted that his father
had ever seen her cry. Eventually, she'd stood up, still crying, and
walked away. She didn't even notice her son watching her.
So, here he was, standing over the grave of someone he'd never heard of,
but for whom his mother had obviously cared a great deal, with a letter in
his hand. Slowly, he opened it.
I know that this is a little late in coming, but it was hard to write. I
didn't think that I would ever forgive you for the choice you made. I
still haven't completely. I don't think I ever will. But I do understand
why you did it, if that's any consolation. The thing you had searched for
your whole life had been gone the whole time and you didn't know. No one
knew, except whoever put her there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that it turned
out this way. I'm sorry that you couldn't have waited a few more minutes.
Then I would have stopped you. Then everything would be different. I was
in the hallway, you know. I heard the shot. And I ran to get to you, but
it was too late. I never understood why you couldn't wait for me. Or why
you left me. I know that it hurt to find out the truth, but why did you
have to kill yourself over it? I could have helped you. I would have
helped you. I loved you. I thought you knew that. But you left me and my
life had to go on. I got married. I never really loved him the way that I
loved you, but then half of me died when you pulled that trigger. Kevin
accepted that I wouldn't love him as much as he loved me. We got divorced
a few years ago. He said that he loved me, but that he was tired of
competing with a ghost. I told him I was tired of living with one. The
poor guy thought I was talking about him. But I was talking about you. I
feel like you're watching me. It makes me nervous sometimes. It makes me
happy sometimes too. It's kind of like you're still watching my back.
Like you're still my partner.
Kevin died last week. I hope that he understands now. I never meant to
hurt him. Like you never meant to hurt me. It was inevitable. When they
found Samantha's body, part of you died. And the rest of you wanted to die
too. So you hurt me. When you died, part of me died. And I wanted to die.
But I didn't. I think part of me wanted to drive everyone away so that
they couldn't hurt me too.
I'm sorry I didn't go to your funeral. I should have. But I couldn't. I
just couldn't. Please forgive me.
I have two beautiful children, do you know that?I guess if you are
watching me then you would know that. I named my son Fox. I hope you're
not mad. I always thought it was a beautiful name. I wish you had let me
use it, even just once. I hope that Fox is half as wonderful as you were.
He has no idea who he was named after. Neither does Samantha. She is
beautiful, just like your sister would have been. I'm only sorry that you
didn't know them. And that they weren't yours.
I've been horribly overprotective of them. I never even trusted Kevin
with them. But then, your mother never should have trusted your father
with Samantha. If she hadn't maybe she'd still be alive today. Maybe you'd
still be alive today.
I know that I'm going to die soon. I'm not dreading it.I'm not even
scared. I think that maybe you'll be there to meet me. And I think I'll be
able to have the second chance that I've prayed for all these years.
I wish that everything had been different. I wish that everything had
worked out that way it does in my dreams.It doesn't matter though. That's
not what happened. This is what happened and now I am an old woman,
writing a letter to leave at your grave, trying to say what I could never
tell you, what I was so afraid to tell you. I love you,Fox. And I always
did. Dana
Fox wasn't even aware that he was crying until he saw the ink blur on the
page. He didn't notice Samantha either, until she put her arms around him.
"What's wrong, Fox?" He handed her the letter and watched her read it.
Then they both looked down at the graves they stood in front of, the
people they had never net and never heard of until today. The siblings
they had been named after, Fox and Samantha Mulder.
******************************************************************
well, how horrible was that? please let me know what you think...
later,jessica ;-) (jzyvarek@udel.edu)
if we weren't all crazy, we would go insane
(jimmy buffet-changes in latitudes,changes in attitudes)
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