Thorn Prison Letters #2
Source: The Case Against Gabriel Thorn, ABC documentary.
My little sparrow,
I wonder if you’ll read this and know, truly know, how it all was.
They’ll tell you things about me, about them, my pretty sparrows, but they’ll never understand.
No one ever does. They twist and dig until the truth becomes something grotesque.
But you…you’ll see, won’t you? You’ll understand.
You know better than anyone that sparrows are delicate.
They need protection and they chose me for that.
I kept them from harm. I didn’t hurt them, not in the way they’re filling your head with.
I cared for them and loved them and you don’t defile your most cherished possessions, do you?
You don’t. They must remain pure and untouched if they’re to soar.
They were safe with me, away from all the noise.
I can still see them…their eyes, so wide and trusting, the way they looked at me.
They didn’t know at first. How could they?
But after a while, there was a peace. A silence.
They were precious. Each one. Like holding a bird’s egg in your hands, knowing how easily you could crush it if you wanted to, but I didn’t.
I was gentle. Careful. That’s what they don’t see.
Even now, I remember their faces like a dream.
A beautiful dream where everything is light and still.
I see them, see them even now, and I know they’re safe, tucked away from prying eyes.
I kept them safe. I never let them suffer.
Not for one moment. I loved them in ways no one else could, and I gave them peace.
THEY’LL tell you I did things, things I couldn’t, wouldn’t.
They try to paint me with their filthy brushes, but I know the truth.
I loved them too much to let the world get its claws in them.
I kept them close and then I set them free and now they’re always with me, my pretty sparrows, safe and sound.
I want you to feel it, as if they’re here now, a part of us, always.
Don’t let them take this from us. It was always for them.
Love,
Daddy