The Riverside Road

“Mr. Li, this letter appears to be the last words written by your late son Hudson. We found it in your room, and it appears to be addressed to you.” Detective Williams produced a folded envelope and handed it across to the man dressed in mourning clothes beside him.

Through teary eyes, Mr. Li carefully examined the hastily written words that sprawled across the front of the envelope. Then, with hands trembling, he slowly peeled away the seal and took out the folded piece of paper inside.

Although without, the stormy sky was dark and the deafening winds roared, Mr. Li managed to tamp down his grief and heartbreak amplified by the inclement weather. With great effort, Mr. Li forced his eyes to, line by line, slowly sweep across the letter that related those terrible events that had ultimately led to Hudson’s demise. Here is what Mr. Li read:

Dear Father, when this letter is relayed into your hands, you would have undoubtedly already learned of the horrible fate that had befallen me. Even now, as I steel myself for the act of which I am on the brink of committing, your dear and benevolent countenance still beams at me from seemingly worlds away, and I cannot bring myself to consider the prospect of so selfishly leaving you. Yet, there is a certainty in my head that tells me that if I do not end my life now, the spirit of Justin will never forgive me for the filthy deeds which my hands have so wrongly executed, and my life, forever more, will be filled with such misery that you or any human being can hardly imagine. Therefore, I must summon up what little courage still left to me and commence in this act which I had feared above all else not more than a few days ago but now embraced with gladness in the promise of eternal peace. However, my Father, I do not wish you to see me as already driven crazy by events you can only guess at, and it is for that purpose that I am now about to recount the unfortunate events of the past days.

It all started on Tuesday when, after dismissal, I was walking sullenly down the riverside road that led from Kateland High. As you may recall, that day was especially dreary, and as I proceeded, no sounds of the usual chirping of birds and humming of insects reached my ears. The water beside the road was filled with a death-like stillness that suggested an absence of life, and that, along with the exhaustion caused by a laborious day of work, provoked an overwhelming depression within me. As I walked, my head hung low, and my shoulders bent.

All of a sudden, out of the gloom that occupied my thoughts, I saw the figure of Justin Cleaver, the infamous school bully, standing ahead in the middle of the road. He was stocky, dressed in a faded statement jacket and ripped jeans. As I drew nearer, Justin scrutinized my hunched form with evident hostility. I could almost see the malicious thoughts turning in his head.

“Now lookie here, it’s that dumb-witted Asian freshman with his dumpster backpack,” Justin sneered, “In fact, I was just looking for ya. You know, at Kateland, we always prepare a welcome ceremony for newbies, and as the representative of our tenth-grade community, I have decided to honor you personally by pushing your fat head into the boy’s toilet tomorrow. You’d better be ready for it.”

At that moment, I would have liked it so much to rebuke Justin with the utmost spite and then to have my hands clasped firmly around that arrogant fool’s scrawny neck. Oh, how I would have loved to hear the groans and pleas uttered from that filthy mouth which had just seconds ago sniggered with so much contempt. However, Father, my long hours of yoga practice made my common sense prevail over my animal impulses. Instead of committing to my impetuous thoughts, I kept my head down and endeavored to push past Justin so that his vicious words would not bother me anymore.

As I was maneuvering past Justin with my hands in my pockets and my eyes averted from him, Justin bumped my head with his elbow and whispered these taunting words in my ear: “Remember, tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Now looking back, I supposed Justin’s maniacal words spoken with so much malice simply pushed me over the edge because to me, the next moment was a complete haze filled with a red tinge. The next thing I knew was seeing Justin’s body falling back first, off the road and into the river with his eyes staring incredulously at me. I rushed over to the edge of the drop just in time to see Justin’s motionless and battered body tumbling across the short descent of the dirt bank. With a great splash, Justin landed in the dark waters of the river. His head bobbed once, and then the waters closed over him with a finality like the shutting of two sets of steel doors. The river had swallowed Justin with its gaping maw.

As the ripples of the river began to dissipate and Justin’s lifeless body gradually sank to the muddy riverbed, I stood on the riverbank staring dumbfoundedly at the spot where Justin had disappeared. Around me, the river was filled with the same deathly stillness as before Justin’s fall, and correspondingly to the silence, my mind was also an empty cavern, devoid of any thoughts except a small voice at the back of my head that whispered: So, I guess I’ve killed him.

Finally, after more than 60 seconds of this motionless revery, the implications of what I had done registered, and my panic set in. With a swift movement, I sprang from my position on the riverbank onto the road and, turning my head left and right, made sure that nobody had seen Justin’s death. Indeed, to my relief, not a form except that of my own could be seen on the desolate road. Upon finding that, I immediately began to make my way back home.

Over the course of the fifteen-minute jog back to our compound, I cannot say how many thoughts crossed my head. I must admit, my mind was swallowed by a hurricane as I proceeded along the riverside road. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, and the only clear idea that I could discern was that I should get as far away as possible from the place of that tragedy. Besides that, questions like what I should do and how Justin’s disappearance would be viewed in school flitted to and fro in my mind. However, I could think of no satisfying answer to any of those, and the more I thought of them, the more my head ached to a point that when I reached our apartment, I had developed a dull pain at the back of my head that was increasing with every second.

At home, I tried to calm my spirits, but it was no use. My mind kept screaming at me to do something about Justin’s death, and it just won’t shut up. Should I inform Justin’s parents? Definitely not. Should I tell my Father? Maybe? Should I tell the police? No. My headache grew more painful with every second.

At around ten o’clock, I finally decided enough was enough and decided to prepare for bed. I was getting dressed for the night when I caught a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. I turned and noticed in my bedroom mirror, a dripping, mangled human form with palish skin and a torn shirt. No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be him, I hoped with all my fervor, and yet when I squinted, I made out the blond head and narrow face of Justin, swollen with cuts and bruises and still planted with an evil smile.

Upon seeing this horrific sight, I sprang back with a start of terror only to crash headfirst into the half-open doors of my closet. With teeth clenched in pain, I regained my footing, frantically surveyed the room for abnormal objects, and found, to my relief, that there was nobody except me in the room. Thank God, it was only my imagination, the thoughts had barely taken hold in my mind when I turned around and saw, once again in the mirror, that cursed ghostly apparition. Justin’s mouth was apparently moving, but no sound came out, and this eerie phenomenon chilled me to the bones. My blood ran cold, my legs felt like noodles, and I couldn’t help suspecting the fact that Justin had now come back to wreak his revenge.

With great effort, I recovered the ability to move. I rushed over to the mirror and threw a sheet of blanket over it to rid myself of the demonic image. Once satisfied that the entire mirror was covered, I sank back onto my bed, breathless and with beads of perspiration across my brow. That night, I went to sleep with the feeling that the malicious presence of the ghost Justin was still somewhere beside me in the room, watching my sleeping form while planning the next stage of his revenge.

Even in my sleep, Justin didn’t spare me rest because that night I became the victim of a horrendous nightmare that shook me to the ground. Now, looking back on that terrific dream, I do not believe it to be merely a product of my imagination because even now, the memories of it still linger in my memory with the utmost clearness. Therefore, Father, I will describe it to you so that  you can better understand what led to my final act.

In my dream, I was walking along that riverside road I used to get home every day. As I walked, a storm gathered above me with winds raging and lightning flashing. Rain pelted down from above, leaving the hoodie I was wearing soaked in a matter of minutes. In the distance, the booming of thunder could be heard as if shots fired from a cannon.

In the middle of all that, I heard a hissing from the direction of the riverbank. Looking down, I saw again the terrible, translucent ghost of Justin floating in the middle of the river’s current. This time, instead of voicing imperceptible sounds, he beckoned at me to come down and join him in the river.

Terrified at his reappearance, I sprinted blindly forwards with no clear destination in mind, only the thought of extricating myself from the relentless pursuit of Justin. Thus, I ran, afraid even to look back for fear of seeing Justin’s ghoulish face jeering at me. Along the way, I stubbed my toe over some rocks and almost fell over, but I regained my balance and pushed on.

However, no matter how fast or how far I ran, I couldn’t seem to reach the end of the road, which stretched on for seemingly an eternity. Finally, I stopped, gasping for breath and with a feeling of despair in my heart.

Suddenly, a booming voice reached me over the sound of wind and thunder, “Little Hudson, my eternal enemy, you can’t escape me even with wings.”

I glanced down, and sure enough, the ghastly form of Justin was right below me amidst the river, mocking my feeble attempts at resistance. His predatory chase of me, along with that thunderous voice, had rendered me helpless as sheep when pursued by a tiger. Blood roared in my ears, and my legs trembled uncontrollably. The only thought left in my head now was to shield myself as best as I may, and so, I curled into a ball on the back riverbank and waited for Justin’s punishment.

Through half-closed eyelids, I saw Justin float up from the river. Once beside me, he grabbed me by the collar and began to drag me down. “You took my life, now it’s time for me to take yours,” Justin whispered in my ear, “come, come take your place in hell and I will have my revenge at last.”

In Justin’s iron grip, I kicked, and I writhed, and my struggles were made further by his promise of sending me to hell. However, in the end, all my efforts were in vain as I was dragged across the muddy riverbank and into the river. Just as I was about to hit the surface of the water, an endless chasm opened below me, and I fell.

I awoke in bed, gasping for breath and soaked through with sweat. It was still before sunrise, and my bedroom was immersed in complete darkness. Outside, the usual chatter of birds was yet to be heard. Nevertheless, I had no intentions of going back to sleep after such a horrific nightmare, so I lit my lamp and endeavored to read until my typical waking hour.

Soon, rays of early morning light filtered through the shutters, and I was obliged to get ready for the day. I must admit, the vivid dream of the night before shook me. As I dressed, I couldn’t help thinking of the nightmare. If Justin could pursue me even to my dreams, how could I ever get rid of him, I asked myself and found no reply. These were my thoughts in my darkest hours.

I became increasingly upset as I pondered my next move regarding Justin. Overnight, my future had become dark and obscure in my vision. I cannot see any means of ridding myself of Justin’s curse, and the mere thought of being tormented by Justin made my limbs tremble.

My mood throughout Wednesday was subdued. In school, I acted as if in a dream and constantly lapsed into bouts of despair. I went through all of the classes with a blind indifference that made me look like I was sleepwalking.

Inevitably, my classmates noticed my abnormal behavior. My friends tried to find out what was wrong with me, but I shook them off with a shake of my head. They could not understand me nor deliver me from my troubles.

When dismissal finally came, I stepped out of Kateland High with a sort of relief befitting someone who had, at last, finished a torturous test only to enter yet another dreaded exam. I looked forward to escaping from the persistent nagging of my ignorant classmates and yet, was afraid of being on my own, vulnerable to Justin’s revenge. I longed for someone who could comfort me and protect me from Justin’s wrath, but there was none.

Just then, sunk as I was in my own revery, I noticed a gathering not far away. Out of some fateful curiosity, I turned my steps in that direction and, a few seconds later, found myself in front of a notice for a missing person. Slowly, I took in what I was seeing—a notice for the missing Justin.

Upon perceiving this, I started in surprise. It seemed that at every corner I looked, some remnant of Justin’s death plagues me. Is this yet another tactic used by Justin to implant his revenge upon me? How could that demon Justin follow me everywhere, from my dreams to my home and school? What had I done to deserve that? What was I to do? I clutched my head between my hands; I pulled at my hair; I groaned in agony.

All around me, people had turned towards me in amazement at my erratic behavior. They backed away, and that distressed me even further. How could they be so heartless as to gaze upon the struggles of a fellow being and not help? I started to pace back and forth. I closed my eyes, hoping that the notice was only a mirage, and opened them again only to see the words “MISSING: JUSTIN CLEAVER” glaring back at me. I cried out loud, “Why are you doing this to me!”

Finally, I could not bear it anymore, so I turned and ran down the same riverside road that had been the cause of so much of my agony. As with the case in my dream, I ran blindly, not caring where I ended up. In the back of my mind, I vaguely noticed that a thick fog had formed over the river so that I could only see ten yards in front. In any other circumstance. If it was any other time, I would have slowed to a walk, but now, in my disturbed state, I pushed on recklessly at full speed.

Suddenly, I heard the same voice as in my dream boom across the heavens, “Hudson Li, you cannot escape my grasp. This is only the first taste of my sweet vengeance!”

Upon hearing this familiar voice, I shuddered from head to toe for the fear of seeing again, the spirit of Justin come to wreak retribution. I was spurred on further in my flight by fear, and yet, Justin’s voice followed me all the way back home, repeating the phrase “It’s all your fault ... it’s all your fault” again and again as if to drive me crazy.

Once in our compound, I shut myself in a cupboard to try and protect myself from my tormentor. But still, Justin’s voice persisted in a cruel laughter that began to grow louder and louder. This laugh seemed to come all the way from hell, and I trembled in the presence of it.

As seconds passed, that laughter became increasingly shrill by the second. Under its influence, I could not think clearly, and my temples throbbed with pain. Eventually, that pain began to grow as well, to a point that I felt as if my head were splitting. My eyes swam with agony, and I could barely form a consistent thought. I foamed at the mouth, I bit my tongue, and I pounded my fists against my skull in an attempt to try and relieve myself. Ultimately, I resorted to banging my head against the cupboard wall in order to lessen the pain. Through a haze of darkness and pain, I vaguely remembered wondering if this was how Justin’s vengeance would end—with me killing myself with a cupboard wall. And then, my vision went black.

When I woke up, it was already nightfall. Strangely enough, when I extricated myself from the cupboard I had passed out in, I found that neither you nor Mother had returned from work. I checked myself in a mirror and saw I was in poor shape. My jeans were ripped by numerous shrubs across my way when I ran home, and there was blood all over my forehead. I was badly shaken by the events of the afternoon, which made me jump at every sudden movement.

Thus, I decided that after first washing the blood off my face, I should then proceed to the terrace to calm my spirits. However, when I reached our tenth-floor balcony and looked down at the river right below, all the memories of the afternoon and the day before rushed back with all its details. I stood on the terrace and sunk into silent thoughts.Finally, I came to the decision, which, by now, you might have already guessed. Even now, as I stand on the terrace with the wind ruffling my hair, I do not regret my decision to leave the world, not in the slightest. I have had enough of Justin’s torture, and I do not intend to be his plaything anymore. Now, I look down and see ravens swooping to and fro above the river. They seem to be beckoning me, beckoning me not to hell as Justin had promised but to a place of sunshine, where Justin will trouble me no further.

However, Father, I have related to you the events that led up to my eventual decision, but I have yet to convince you of my healthy state of mind, and I will do so now. I admit that over the past days, I have been almost driven mad by Justin’s death, but you see Father, as I now write to you in my final moments, I am perfectly calm and reposed. I do not weep like the main character in Anna Karenina nor rave like the narrator in The Tell-Tale Heart. Therefore Father, you mustn’t see me as crazy or deranged. Indeed, I feel that I am doing the right thing in ending my life.

Father, I am deeply sorrowful to leave you and Mother alone in the world, and yet you must understand that the moments after my final decision were the happiest ones I have had in days. By the grace of God, please would you forgive me for my insolent choice of leaving you? Hearken now, someone is calling to me down below, perhaps Justin, perhaps someone else. Either way, the time has now come for my departure. Farewell Father, don’t you grieve too much for me.

At the police station, Mr. Li lifted his eyes from the letter which confirmed his greatest fears about the fate of his son. With one motion of his hand, Mr. Li crumpled the letter in one fist and threw it down forcefully upon the concrete floor. Then, putting his head in both hands, he dissolved into uncontrollable tears.