To Whom It May Concern...

God is dead
I'm scared
I'm sorry

If you're reading this you are a survivor, for now. From what you have seen in this house, you are either totally shocked or it is already second nature. From the sounds you hear in the basement, you have either taken care of it or you are cautious. After this letter, you will either pass judgement or you will empathize. If you pass judgement, the only thing I have to say is fuck you. You didn't see what I saw. If you empathize, there are no words I can say to comfort you.

I am not a religious man. I never went to church. I never prayed to a God. I believe in a life after this place, but I don't give it a name. It scares me to think how we all started on this planet and it shakes me to the core to think how THIS all started.

Is THIS Man's doing? Are we so blood thirsty at our core that we developed something to kill us all in the name of money or religion or power?

Is THIS God's doing? Did enough of us not believe and You brought this upon us to show us Your will?

If I was a God fearing man, I would have had my faith pushed to the brink, wondering why you took my 9 year old daughter and turned her into one of those things. I would either be such a blind follower that I would sit and pray and know that salvation lies with you and that you have a plan and that I am merely a pawn in your game of chess. Or I would question you and say that you wouldn't do this, that you couldn't watch your creation destroy itself, that the other side has somehow won and the gates of Hell have opened.

But as I said earlier, I am not a religious man and I never went to church and I sure as hell never prayed to God. What I did do was lead a good life. I provided for her, I loved her, I protected her. I taught her right and wrong, I showed her how to lead a good life, I showed her how to be a good person. She showed me unquestionable love.

The truth of the matter is, There is no God. There is no Deux Ex Machina. There is no superhero. This is not a nightmare. The bullets left in your gun, the water left in your bottle, the food left in your sack, that is it. We are Man. We are on our own.

I am now on my own. The only thing I love, turned before my eyes, an accident, a moment of carelessness. The fault lies with me, next to my broken heart, next to the mountain of guilt. I have left this place to go wherever the next journey begins. I hope I see you there. I hope you forgive me for my carelessness. I hope you forgive me for not doing what I should have done. I cannot shoot you. I hear you moan, growl, purely instincts, fighting to get to me, to feed your hunger. And as I raise my gun, I see your eyes, I see your dimples and I see you at 2 years old, telling me you love me for the first time. I can't. I'm sorry. I love you too much to shoot you but I love you too much to set you free.

I am a Man, I am a Father, I am a Coward, I am Waiting For You.

I Love You