Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
With a trembling hand she kept reading, her tears darkening the pages. But she swallowed the despair in her throat and pushed through. When she got to the last page, she read his final words…
21. My final entry…
And now here we are. All this time later… An innocent man has been arrested for the crimes my brother committed. I told my father that if something like this should happen, I will be turning myself in. He didn’t believe me. Then, he begged me not to. I said no. This is the end. The family secrets are coming out. Ready or not. Some guy named Ethan beat up his girlfriend, but now they’re saying he is the Old Orchard Beach Strangler.
This Ethan guy should be punished for his crime, but he didn’t kill all of these men. He fucked up, but he doesn’t deserve this. He’s not a murderer. This isn’t fair. This is not right. This isn’t the truth. He’d be in prison for the rest of his life, maybe even get the death penalty. I can’t let that happen…
Porsche, I have told you one lie, and one lie only. I told you when you interviewed me the first time that my family had no serious issues. That wasn’t true. I didn’t know you, and I don’t discuss things like that with just anyone. Also, with the way your mind works, if I had told you the truth, you would have started putting the pieces together all the sooner. The problem was, I didn’t know the puzzle was made of glass. Now, everything is shattered.
I’m sorry for breaking your heart. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for believing I could stop this wickedness in its tracks. I wanted to believe that somewhere deep inside of him, he was still good. But he wasn’t. My brother Dmitriy is dead, Porsche. He died a long time ago. There’s nothing left of him but the monster within. I am not going to kill him… but I am going to bring him damn close to it…
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for all that you’ve given me, and allowed me to give to you. I thought I was courageous until I found you. I thought I was brave, until you showed me what true bravery was. You are the love of my life. I have no idea if you’ll still want me after this. What I do know is that I owe this to me. To you. And to all of the victims and the victims’ families. All I can do is do the right thing, and then hope that you’re there at the end of the journey. I am done sacrificing myself. I am no longer the savior of this family.
My mother was the savior, and I believe it made her physically ill in the form of stress, which turned into cancer. I will not follow in her footsteps. I will not run away like Mark and suffer in silence. I will not take my anger out onto the world like Dmitriy. I will walk a different path. I deserve to be happy. That path might be in prison, but I regret nothing. People are alive because of me. Families will finally get some closure.
My brother, Dmitriy Raven, has been murdering men across New England, and the state of California, as well as one man in Vegas, for over four years, I believe. He kept a box full of trophies of his kills, tucked away under the front seat of his car, which I retrieved and put in my basement with him. You will find his tools of strangulation in a locked box in the shed if you haven’t already. Duct tape. Rope. Gloves. Heed my warning: It is imperative that anyone who reads this shall not under any circumstances release my brother into the world ever again. A mental institution is not a punishment, for he knew right from wrong when he committed those evil crimes.
If he has an opportunity to ever see the free world, he will kill again. If he has a chance to escape, he will murder within his first 24 hours of flight. He is extremely dangerous, and addicted to killing. He will torture and commit deadly harm. He will enjoy it, every moment of it, and have no remorse. Do not fall for his stories, and his many persuasive multiple personalities. Those who say evil doesn’t exist are foolish. All we have to do is look in the mirror. Or, at our brother…
She closed the book and made her way to the restroom to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. She wept hard. She wept quietly. She wept painfully. After a long time, she pulled herself together by splashing cold water on her face, standing straight, and trying to focus on the next steps. Then, she made a cup of green tea and drank it as she looked out the window, watching two young children playing in their backyard. Through a smile, she dabbed at another tear and finished her hot beverage.