nicky murdock | d4 ; fin

You owe me a tie. I think.

Though perhaps it's rotting in a corner of my cabin. The moths have picked it clean of everything but the memory of how strange you looked wearing it. I worry it's only a matter of time before they eat you, too.

I wonder if you'd mind.

I should be proud of man you've become. I'll spare you the trouble of reading between the lines for once - I'm not. You were born looking like a boy, you have grown into a tragedy. I can barely stand the sight of you.

The last note I left you was stained with whiskey, could you smell it?

Did you do what it asked anyway?

You've always been a good son.

-Dad

aria,

It is my greatest shame that you take after your father.

The school sends letters, did you know? They sit in a pile on my desk, ruined from salted mist. I've watched the font go bold, the margins grow smaller. They're begging for my help.

They describe you with soft words - troubled, in need of guidance. We know better, don't we?

Don't let them take your anger from you. That is how they ruined me. My thoughts were so sweet on hard liquor, I convinced myself it was better living empty-headed. Convinced myself that it made me incapable of hurting you all.

We're long past the point of good intentions, I don't ask that you love me.

Just be better than I ever was.

-Dad
-Nicky

cade,

Sometimes, I am sorry for having loved you at all.

Sorry for laughing when you pointed out the storm on the horizon.

Sorry for not turning the boat around.

Might have, if I hadn't been sneaking sips of vodka whenever you left the deck. I'm sorry about that too.

Truth is, I felt invincible. Thought that I had finally found the life I was owed. On the opens seas with my favorite son, filling the lulls in our work with idle conversation. It was not a broken man who ruined your life, but an arrogant one.

For my sake, I hope you never figure that part out.

Bear the storm a little longer, Attis will get you home.

And I'm sorry I won't be there.

-Your Dad

gin,

I don't remember when you stopped calling me 'dad'.

It doesn't sting, if you want it to. I never wanted to be your father.

For months I've been telling Attis he needs to keep you out of the water and he tells me I have no right to speak on a stranger. Reminds me of all the blue birthday cards shoved in your drawer because I never asked your favorite color.

It's orange, he tells me. A week before the date. Every year.

You took something from me the day you were born. Red-faced from screaming, your hand wrapped around Cade's and your eyes trained upon mine. Blue, like your mother's. Fierce, like mine.

I knew then you were lightning in a bottle.

And for some reason that scared me.

I think you made me a coward.

-Nicky (YOUR DAD)

oleander,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, fuck you.

I grow weary of watching the slime seep out of your smile. Those kids deserve better. They're good, against all odds, you have made something beautiful. Is that why you revel in destroying them?

Are you still hung up on the fact Father loved me more? You've become a sniveling little loyalist since you cut him down from the rafters. He wouldn't be proud. He was disgusted by you, told me himself the night before he- [ink smears around a heavy scrawl, the words crossed out by a shaking hand]

Taking Cade was not a victory. He is not some possession to laud over my head, he is a child.

I will see your empire fall, brother.

Consider this a final warning.

-Nathaniel Murdock