HOME | DD

Description
This is my last attempt to clear my head from this whole mess... It’s been dragging on to long, complicating itself as a ball of yarn. All that is written here is true but should never be read by anyone else, for it contains to many secrets, destined to end their wanderings here.

‘Dear Aster...’

My name is Aster Dumont. I was born from a Belgian father and a Cuban mother that only sticked together so she could stay in the wonderful promised land, the US, untill she had gotten the necessary papers. Therefore their relation was strictly professional, she did the house keeping and he would bring in money, an incorporated family really.
Untill Maria, my mother, overwhelmed by lonelyness, one day crossed the hall in her nightgown and loved my father.  When she told him she was pregnant of that night, he didn’t like it too much. In fact, he screamt, as I’ve been told, and beat up everything in the house, Maria included. Crying she ran away, seeking refuge at my grandparents house. She gave birth to me there, and ran off the next day. Perhaps she went back to Cuba. Perhaps she was disseapointed in the Land of Promise. Perhaps – no, that’s probably a fact – she was glad to leave dad, after having seen his darker side.

‘Thank you for sending me your part of the story, and your visits, which made life inside more bearable for me...’

My grandparents delivered me back to my father, who raised me. Not an easy task, I was a serious burden, because he never missed an oppertunity to let me know I was unwanted. Age 15 (or around that, the year’s pretty much a blur) I started using. Age 18, dealing. Age 20, prison, five years.During my time in my dad passed away after being kind enough to take my name out of his last will. My uncle Xavier got the house and the money was devided under the family. That family, known for it’s many insane men, decided my dad had been to harsh on me and set up a fund for me, to which they all contributed what they could miss from their share of the heritage. Upon leaving prison, I had that money and a grave promise never ever to go back in there again.

‘Without anyone to do the same for you, your time in must’ve been hell...’

My grandparents took me under their wings as they had done for my mother. They helped me set up my company, a small computer bussiness, and kept me on the good path. About a year later I met Anouk, the most fantastic woman I’ve met so far. I went to live with her, and never regretted that decision. I just hope she hasn’t either. Right from the start I told her about my junky past, and my time in. She didn’t mind. Untill the night I made the mistake of coming home stoned as hell. That night she lead me to the couch, not saying a word but with the angriest look I had ever seen in human eyes – and I had been in jail with murderers. It was only the next morning I felt her wrath. She hit me, full force, ‘till I fell down and searched refuge on the floor. Still she kicked me in the stomach, untill she got tired and dropped herself on the floor crying. I crawled to her, restraining her from beating me again. I had earned the first round but no second.
’It’s ok honey.’ I whispered, covering her neck and cheeck with bloody kisses.
’No it’s not. You’re gonna wind up like Jim and you know that to.’ Jim was a friend of hers, I only met him once between his stays in several rehab clinics.
’I promise...’
’No – listen to me. I promise you that if I ever see you like that again I will castrate you.’ She said it crying but I took her word for it.
‘I’m sorry this whole matter made you fleed back into drugs. Atleast you got Anouk to keep you clean. I thank heaven for letting her into your life...’
That’s  been 2 years now, ‘Nouk and me are still going steady. Every night when she comes home from work she checks my armpits for needletraces, although I told her that’s not a very good way.
’Just keeping you scared.’ She said. She wants me to know I’m being watched, atleast concerning dope. But I found it humiliating.
’Don’t you trust me?’ I asked once.
’With my life, but I’m afraid you might trade me for a k of the white stuff.’
’Only one k? Now postorderbrides are such a good market, I should be able to get a hell of a lot more.’ She just pushed me away, laughing with that beautiful smile she’s got a patent on. That moment I decided I would do whatever it takes to give her the life she deserves.
‘I still don’t know how you managed to shut up so very long...’
Let’s move on to the core of this matter. At last years Xmas gathering, my unci Xavier did an announcement so grave, he made it in the language of the land the Dumonts had forsaken 3 decades ago: Belgium.
’Ik verkoop het huis.’
The sentenced was followed by a lot of muttering by the younger ones among us: ‘what’s he fucking saying?'
’He’s selling the house.’ I translated for them. ‘But you can’t do that, I’m supposed to get the house.’ When the fund was set up, my uncle already was in alot of debts, so he gave me what I was entitled to: the house, after he died atleast.
’I’m sorry Aster, there’s no way I could keep the house.’
’Sell it to me then.’
’I can’t. Why do you want it for so badly anyway?’
’For me and Anouk, tiens!’
’To bad...’
’Put your regrets up yours uncle, you’re just afraid you might not get enough for it.’
He stood up, called Gabi and went home although it rained quite hard and the roads were slippery.

‘Dad always said it rained when I was born...’

Gabrielle – Gabi for short – is uncie’s daughter. We have atleast one thing in common: we never knew our mothers. Hers died giving birth to her. Her father loved her for two, despite her um... disease. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it has to do with the ends of her nerves not reaching her upper skin, so she can’t feel shallow cuts and stuff. Maybe that’s why she’s so sensitive mentally. One time I remember, she had killed an ant by accident, she cried a whole day for it and wrote a freaking poem for it.
Anyway, she’s lovely, really. If she hadn’t been my niece Anouk would probably be single.

'I think I fell in love with you that night, I could tell you felt for me to...’

The week after Xmas the attempts begun. First aunt Jeanne (as usual, aunt Jeanne is always first) tried to poison uncle by putting strychnine into a portion of vol-au-vent she made for him. It might even have worked, if she had been able to cook that is. Uncle knew what her cooking stood for and didn’t even want to give the cat cramps so he threw it away. Then great uncle Gene hid a WWII landmine in his backyard. The cat, previously saved from cramps, walked on it. The cratar from the explosion uncovered a set of ancient artefacts so that now a team of archeologists are turning over the soil. Il faut le faire.
A few examples of less deadlier attempts: Billy hiding the contents of his piggy bank in uncies bed and running to the cops to accuse him of money laundring. Pretty smart for a 6-year-old. Then grandpa Vinny, not really a relative, hiding a dogs head in uncs bed. Said a horse was harder to chase. He just wants to be cool like us.

‘I still can’t believe anyone could be convinced I did it...’

I was kinda gratefull for uncle taking over the role of black sheep of the family for once. Anytime the kids won’t eat, they show my mugshot (back then when I was ultra thin, unshaven and not really looking to healthy) with the words ‘you’ll look like that if you don’t eat your spinach’. If that won’t work, the kid’s considered anorexic. Don’t get me wrong, they all love me in their own, insane way.
‘And why did he have to die? All he ever wanted was to get out of debt. This has gone to far...’
Needless to say, everybody wanted to get rid of uncle Xavier. No matter how hard they tried to convince him not to sell, he stood his ground. So I had him whacked.
I knew this guy from prison, although I didn’t really want to get in touch with him, he was the one I needed. It had been 4 years but he still remembered me. I got to the point, he said his price and the next day we met. As usual I was early.
’You look a hell of alot better now.’ He greeted me.
’You to.’
’Still the greatest liar I know.’ He grinned with his ugly rotten teeth. ‘So you wanted a stiff one?’
’Pardon me?’
’You want someone dead?’
’Yeah. My uncle.’
’I see.’ Clearly I had made his day, he couldn’t stop grinning. ‘Gonna be 10000.’
I handed him the check. The money came from my personal account, I didn’t want my beloved to find out. In trade he handed me a little bag.
’Dude, I’m clean now.’
’That’s what they all say. But take it, you look like you need it.’ He walked away. Up to now I have no clue why I didn’t throw it away that moment.

‘His dead came as a shock to me, I had only seen the innocent attempts...’

It happened a week later. Xaviers old wreck drove into a tree. Some idiot noticed the brakes were cut, and turned the case’s status from ‘accident’ to ‘murder’. The only suspect the cops could think of was Gabi. She was close enough to cut the brakes, and the neigbours heard them fight the day before. I arranged her bail and a room in a nearby hotel
’Thanks for bailing me out.’ She said sighingly. She knew she was out of the family’s grace by committing a crime so grave, in their eyes atleast.
’Least I could do.’ That was true, seen my role in this all. ‘Unless you need anything, I’ll be on my way.’
’No -  please stay a while longer. I don’t want to be alone.’
’Ok, just let me call home.’ Anouk was fine with it, she even spoke to Gabi for a while. Two bottles of JD were looted from the minibar.
’What’s it like, in prison?’
For the first and the last time I tell everything: about the rape I wish I could’ve escaped, about being lonely, so damn lonely among so many people, the bad food that makes you wonder if they didn’t accidentaly switch the dogfood and the normal food, untill you find out it’s not an accident at all.
’Shit, you must’ve hated it in there.’
’Yeah, that’s the least you could say.’ You should know I’m claustrophobic so I spent the moments before sleeping inside the cell thinking about pastures I have yet to see. She nipped the liquor, preparing the hardest question of the evening.
’I’ll have to go in for long...’
’You don’t know.’
’Hell yes I do. I got no evidence whatsoever to support me, it’s gonna be life damned.’
I sighed. That moment I just wanted to tell her so bad I had done it... But that moment passed.
’Listen... I want to ask you a favor.’
’Yes?’ I wondered what it was.
’Will you love me for tonight? I don’t want to go in being all lonely without atleast once....’
She took my confused face as a sign of indecision.
’If you don’t want to just push me away.’ With those words she started kissing my neck. And I pushed her away.
’Oh, I’m so sorry... I should have...’ She muttered. I just leaned over and kissed her, unbuttoning her blouse. At the supreme moment we found ourselves crying out different names.
’So, who’s Jeff?’ I asked her, over another mini liquor bottle.
’ An ex. I don’t have to ask about Anouk ?’
I grinned. It had been my lifelong dream to love my niece. and I thought about Anouk. Isn’t that commitment?

‘I couldn’t see through you, and your mask...’

She got life, without parole. And, God, I felt bad. It should have been me. To shut up that nagging voice of conscience, I started using again, that little bag being the spark lighting the gasoline. Anouk has a 9 to 5 and I worked at home, plenty of time to trip. I’d inject under my tongue or just plain sniff or chinese, but she did notice in the end. Luckily.

‘Still I’m sorry this whole matter made you fleed back into drugs...’

It was a rainy day, mid fall, when it happened. She came storming in around halfpast eleven and found me sniffing on the livingroom table.
’I knew it!’ She yelled, kicking over the table. I started grabbing her, pretty much ready to kick her ass out of anger that wasn’t her fault at all. Unfortunatly I had always been the skinny weak one and she the voluptous nurse that knew how to handle psychiatric patients. Breaking all rolemodels, she won the freaking fight and held me tight. I started crying, desperatly but in vain. After this, she was ruthless.
’Aster! Aster, calm down ok? People have been calling me asking why you won’t work, our savings account is pretty much dry and you should see yourself in the mirror. How long has this been going on?
’About a year.’ I muttered ashamed. I had let myself go and judgement day was here.
‘God.’ She said. ‘And I was to stupid to even notice. Why?’
’No reason.’
She grabbed my chin. ‘Why, Aster?’ Her saying my name ALWAYS ment trouble.
’Because Gabi is innocent. I had uncle killed.’ I yanked my cheek out of her hands, I couldn’t bear facing her anymore.
’Fuck. You mean you’re just letting her take the fall for you?’
’Yes, pretty much.’
’I’m calling the police.’
’No, please don’t.’
’Ok, then what are you suggesting we should do?’
’Just let me have my fix. Please.’
’Whatever. You’re going back to rehab anyway.’
’Want some to?’ I started making me an injection, no reason to hide anymore anyway.
’Nee, bedankt.’ Was her answer. All she did the next thirty minutes was kneeling next to me and cry. No thanks in dutch. It freaked me out. I had started to see her as a walking threat, not the little Belgian girl I fell in love with. Her way of reminding me I guess. Eversince we speak Dutch.

‘Hope it didn’t get you in to much trouble with Anouk...’

The next day she had flushed my stash and locked away every left shoe I owned. I had forgotten how hard the first few days were. A while later she trusted me to a rehab center, still it took years before she trusted me again. I thought about Gabi alot inside, if she’d be ok, or alone. Anouk told me later she visited her and that they talked alot, but never about me.

‘I thought you had forsaken me, as had everyone else. How it was inside for me? Shit. You know I hate uniformity, and denim. Prisons pretty much both, but I don’t have to tell you that. Anyway, I had a cellmate I got along with quite well, she was one of the few friends I had inside. People who kill their parents aren’t to popular...And there was this freak incident to once. I tried to hide the whole insenstivity of the skin thing, but they did find out over lunch once. One girl was looking at me, poking me so I asked her what she was doing.
’Don’t you feel that?’ She asked.
’What? Your poking? Yes I do.’ I lied.
’Not that weirdo, the fork.’
Indeed there was a fork sticking out of my upper right arm, blood flowing into my food. No wonder it was so tasteless. I should daydream  less during meals.
’Freak.’ She called me. We got fighting and I met the isolation cell.

As soon as I got out I had a tattoo set on my right hand, I had always used for injections. A big, gothic NEEN. Dutch – once more – for no. A nice anagram for the ones not paying to much attention to it. Then I looked up Gabi. She seemed to have gotten the word of my rehab and gave me a present: a poem, so beautiful it made me cry. That’s when I decided I’d collect evidence to get her out, even get myself in, if it meant freeing her. For a friggin’ poem. Talk about power of words.
‘Oh, did I thank you for having the case reopened yet?’
Anyway, I went to lookup my assasin, find out if he would talk. I found him allright, in a gutter. His girl had thrown him out.
’Did you do it yes or no?’ I caught him by suprise.
’Huh? Who’re you again?’
I said my name and repeated my question.
’Kid, I’m a fraud.’
’What?’
’I don’t kill people! I charge money and run off.’
’Oh great!’ I did report him, even though I was relieved.
‘I should. So thank you.’
But the big breakthrough came by mail, a few days after my uncle Andre decided this life wasn’t worth it any longer. He left a sad family, and the letter I got.
I read it 5 times and then reread it again. Roughly, it said he had killed uncle, he had put a snake of his son in the car using the garage and car keys he had gotten from Xavier back when they shared that piece of shit on wheels. But he also said there were more people involved, family. Guilt got to him sooner than to me I guess. Survival of the fittest. I got about 40 copies of his confession and ordered a meeting with the family, then called the police.
’What’s this Aster?’
’Shut up and read it already!’
’Wait a second.... I cut his brakes.’ Winner: David, oldest cousin.
’Fuck you! I poisoned his wine before you were even born!’
’Oh shut up kids! Everyone knows there’s only one person smart enough to come up with this murder!’
’Who?’ Said all.
’Me of course!’ About 35 pairs of shifty eyes glared and then everybody  just jumped on poor grandfather Jos.
‘What the?’ The cops arrived and the first one entering, a detective, took of his sunglasses looking at the pile of people just yelling ‘I did it!’. Pretty much everyone was arrested, me and Anouk included. We weren’t charged, among about 10 others, but the trial still hasn’t ended. Gabi was released from prison, after what? 2 years in total. She left the country after sending every free member of the family a letter saying:' I’ll come back when I forgive you’. Now we’re about 3 years later, Anouk and me are gonna have a baby soon, and call it Gabi if it’s a girl.

‘I woke up this morning, with the strangest thought. I realised I had forgiven you... ‘

About a month ago, I found a book in the library, written by a certain Gabrielle Vandenberg. That ‘Van den berg’ dutch is for ‘Du mont’, must be a coincidence. And the content was pretty much the same as what Gabi went through. Who am I kidding. She ran off to Belgium, where nobody knew her and wrote down her story. I might just send this to Gabi, I have a pretty good idea of where she could be... Anyway, the book was located in the fiction-section. Nobody would believe it I guess.

‘Funny how you found my book, a continent away. Hope you enjoyed it. As you noticed it was the ‘clean’ version. I didn’t want Anouk to find out about our night. Give her my love. And my sincere hate to the family.
Gabriellë’