morning my aunt knocked on my door, a smile on her lips though her eyes were vacant.

they always were - that glimmering sheen of liquor coating them.

morning.

good morning, i yawn. quiet, like she's a stranger but i manage my own own smile. the room is cold, she notices too with a shiver before sighing.

you left your window open.

i turn, frown - grimace at the sight of another letter undoubtedly from you.

sorry-

all the heat will leave the house you should know better.

i know, i'm sorry.

i don't have the energy to argue and neither does she.

instead she sighs and perched on my bed, barely causing any disturbance. she was a frail, yet sharp woman. made of jagged yet delicate edges.

she can cut just as easily as he can break.

digging in the pocket of her robe she pulls out a small package wrapped in newspaper. happy christmas, diana.

my lips drag down, skin pulling and i hesitate - i didn't get you anything. we never do gifts. an unspoken agreement.

she shook her head, it's from your father... he left a note for it.

my hold tightens on the gift, the paper crinkling under my vice grip and i give her a tight smile. a silent ask for her to leave.

she pauses, i know she's curious.

i don't let up and eventually she goes, i hear her light a cigarette down the hall.

a breath leaves me as i run my fingers along the aged paper. i missed him dearly even though i had spent the time he was here hating him.

with cautious movements the paper peels away like skin and an old wooden box is revealed. my fathers initials burned into the lid.

lifting it a small cry leaves my lips, sounding more like a laugh and dust greets my nose.

old letters, drawings, a small velvet sack of marbles - my nail dances along the edge of a smaller box inside.

a dog tag with my fathers name grooved into the fibers.

hot oil races down my cheeks and half-hazardly my fingers scrape the liquid away.

i pull the chain over my neck, the chain cool against my throat and i force myself to the window. feet trudging as if i was going to the gallows.

eyes trail to the list you've given me.

perhaps i'll out do myself with this one.

make it so potent you won't be able to out run it anymore.

maybe, hopefully, this time you'll stay dead.