You don’t want to be relieved of your guilt. Your guilt is your way of punishing yourself for your recent behavior, and without it, you won’t be able to treat people the way you’ve been treating them.

I know this about you, because me and you, Charlie? We’re the same. No matter how tough you’ve been trying to act lately, I know that deep down you have a heart that bleeds in the presence of injustice. I know that every time you lash out at someone, it makes you cringe inside. But you do it because you think you have to. Because your father is manipulating you into believing that if you’re vindictive enough, people won’t touch you.

You told me once that too much good in a person’s life will stunt their growth. You said pain is necessary, because in order for a person to succeed, they must first learn to conquer adversity. And that’s what you do…you deliver adversity where you see fit. Maybe you do it to gain respect. To intimidate. Whatever your reasons, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you tear people down in order to build yourself up.

I’d rather love you at the bottom than despise you at the top.

It doesn’t have to be this way, Charlie. You’re allowed to love me, despite what your father says. You’re allowed to be happy. What you can’t allow is for negativity to choke you until we no longer breathe the same air.

I want you to stop seeing Brian. But I also want you to stop seeing me. I want you to stop trying to find a way to free your father. I want you to stop allowing him to mislead you. I want you to stop resenting me every time I defend my own father.

You act one way in front of everyone else, but at night when I’m on the phone with you, I get the real Charlie. It’s going to be absolute torture not dialing your number and hearing your voice before I go to sleep each night, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t only love that part of you—the real part of you. I want to love you when I talk to you at night and I also want to love you when I see you during the day, but you’re beginning to show two different sides of yourself.

And I only like one of those sides.

As much as I try, I can’t possibly imagine how hurt you must be since your father went away. But you can’t let that change who you are. Please stop caring about what other people think. Stop allowing your father’s actions to define you. Figure out what you did with the Charlie I fell in love with. And when you find her, I’ll be here. I told you before I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never forget what we have.

But lately, it seems that you’ve forgotten.

I’ve enclosed some pictures I want you to go through. Hopefully they’ll help remind you of what we could have again someday. A love that wasn’t dictated by our parents or defined by our family status. A love we couldn’t stop if we tried. A love that got us through some of the hardest moments of our lives.

Never forget, Charlie.

Never stop.

~Silas

Chapter 9: Silas

“Silas, Coach wants you suited up and on the field in five.”

I sit up straight at the sound of the voice. I’m not at all surprised that I don’t recognize the guy standing in the doorway to the locker room, but I nod as if I do. I begin shoving all the pictures and the letter from the box into the backpack, stowing it away in my locker.

I was going to break up with her.

I wonder if I did break up with her? I still have the letter, though. It was written the day before we lost our memories. Our relationship was obviously on a rapid decline. Maybe I gave her the box and she read the letter and then gave it back to me?

Endless possibilities and theories plague my mind as I attempt to put on the football gear. I end up having to Google how to do it on my phone. Ten minutes have easily passed by the time I’m dressed and walking onto the field. Landon is the first to notice me. He breaks formation and jogs in my direction. He puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in.

“I’m tired of covering for you. Get whatever shit is screwing up your head out of there. You need to focus, Silas. This game is important, and Dad will be pissed if you blow it.”

He releases my shoulders and jogs back onto the field. The guys are all lined up, doing what looks like a whole lot of nothing. Some of them are passing footballs back and forth. Others are sitting in the grass, stretching. I take a seat in the grass next to where Landon has just plopped down, and I begin to mock his movements.

I like him. I can only recall two conversations we’ve had in our life, and they’ve both consisted of Landon spitting some sort of direction at me. I know I’m the older brother, but he seems to act like I treat him with respect. We had to have been close. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he’s suspicious of my behavior. He knows me well enough to know something is up.

I try to use this to my advantage. I stretch my leg out in front of me and lean forward. “I can’t find Charlie,” I say to him. “I’m worried about her.”

Landon laughs under his breath. “I should have known this had to do with her.” He switches legs and faces me. “And what do you mean you can’t find her? Her phone was in your car this morning. She can’t very well call you from it. She’s probably at home.”

I shake my head. “No one has heard from her since last night. She never made it home. Janette reported her missing an hour ago.”

His eyes are locked with mine, and I see them shift to concern. “What about her mom?”

I shake my head. “You know how she is. She’s no help.”

Landon nods. “True,” he says. “Damn shame what this has turned her into.”