Chapter 37: The lawyer.
William advised nothing properly heals the heart with content and fullness than a letter. I'm not a Shakespeare, I'm simply Austin the child in your eyes (please note I say this as I roll my eyes). Well, I suppose I've already ruined this part of the love letter. I'm frustrated, angry and so many other woes. I might be seventeen in age but I'm older in mindset by years. You belittle all that I have to offer, always. It rather... makes me livid. Henry is an twenty-eight year old geyser, he does not do much for you. When you cry, I'm there. When you're sad, I'm there. Whenever you need me, I'm present as should be. Where is Henry? God knows. You and I could be together, I do not care for my lousy brother. He pisses off when holds you, caress you, glances... it hurts that I have to watch that sham of a marriage when I love you this much, with all that I have.
To God forbid, one of these many days... when he pisses me off, I will have to deflate his ego with mentioning his infertility. I'm no doctor but five years of marriage with a grown male only to be impregnated with by a seventeen year old boy. You were never the intricacy in any way, it has been my brother all along. I apologize for all the shame you've had to succumb in that sham marriage. Odd isn't it? How when no barrenness is mentioned you're immediately the main course because you're the woman. As if to say you're the only one who holds eggs and accountability as if the males do not have testicles that also hold 50% of the accountability. Enough about digression, I get carried away by my love for biology. William and I plan on both being doctors... study the body of a woman. It is fascinating, something I quite enjoy. If I am to suffer by studying and holding a steady job, i might as well suffer with my own choice of interests and enjoyment. A day to day job, I'd dread is law, hate it. I hate politics, like my father always says... it all boils down to hierarchy and the ill treatment of others... like the slaves. I feel for them, they're human too. I suppose it is my family values that differentiates my opinion, I suppose it is taboo to think of them this way. I could never see them in any other way, my nanny the woman who raised me... is a negro. Mrs. Brown, I miss her dearly at times more than my own parents. She is one I could always count on, I tell her everything...
She does not like you, she always chants that you're taking advantage of me. She does not understand our love for each other. Her husband died as of recent, thought I'd go home and surprise her with some lilies perhaps we could bake some cookies together. She is quite good at all that. I love her dearly. She will start to like you eventually, Mrs Brown loves me and will always be there for me. If she passed, I'd—
I can not think of anything that would make me ease the pain. It's as if pain of losing a mother. William does not understand that, what could I expect coming from a Gallagher... they live to torment slaves as if it's a hobby. Sickening... if I ever had to treat anyone in that manner, someone would have hurt me severely. I might not be the most Christian of my family but in my own way, I try to be a decent person and follow their values.
Three pages already huh? William was right. Putting words on paper is better than chanting at the person. This gives me time to evaluate my feelings and emotions and properly put them in the right order so the receiver understands everything as it has been well put.
But anyways... my penis hurts, has been for a while now. You really broke it on our last encounter. You get too excited at times, it's something I like to see but... it's not broken, it just hurts when I relive myself and so on. The best compliments over the years... well compliments from you is how my manhood has become bigger. It makes me feel mature and eligible to being with you.
Well great timing, the boys are back in the dorm from soccer practice. I have to leave it here. Wouldn't wanting them snatching it and reading my embarrassing thoughts. Uh... I love you Stella. Happy twenty-sixth birthday.
Your love
Austin the Cunning-ham-ster
Ps. I know you love my stupid jokes
—
Stella Ward put the letter in the box, she had not opened in years. Seeing him that day arises her feelings from back then but he only seemed to carry hatred for her. How would she ever tell him about their fifteen year old daughter? That they share a child together. That the trip she took to see her sister was all a sham to do what she had to and that she did not get done with the procedure. Time had flown by, if she could, she would have chosen to be with him and not Henry. She cursed God for making the love of her life much younger. She missed him dearly, he seemed cold and violent... not like the Austin she knew and he had gone to become a... lawyer...odd...
—
I was gonna post this on my instagram bec that's where I usually post all book related history and stuff but nah y'all everyone needs to read this. It's despicable. Instagram @antonxtte
"J. Marion Sims is widely considered the father of modern gynaecology. Now criticized for his practices, Sims developed some of his techniques by operating on slaves, many of whom were not given anaesthesia. Sims performed surgeries on 12 enslaved women in his homemade backyard hospital for four years. While performing these surgeries he invited men physicians and students to watch invasive and painful procedures while the women were exposed. On one of the women, named Anarcha, he performed 30 surgeries without anesthesia. Due to having so many enslaved women, he would rotate from one to another, continuously trying to perfect the repair of their fistulas. Physicians and students lost interest in assisting Sims over the course of his backyard practice, and he recruited other enslaved women, who were healing from their own surgeries, to assist him. In 1855 Sims went on to found the Woman's Hospital in New York, the first hospital specifically for female disorders."