1st of June by Svitlana Burmistrova

 "Hello, my sweet girl!

It's hard to find the words as I sit here with you to write this letter. Don't think I'm trying to make excuses or shrug off responsibility. I know that you will never forgive me, and neither will I, but I want to feel at least a little bit of phantom understanding. 

Everything started great, and I felt happiest. I was among the most successful students and was already enjoying life in the capital in the arms of a guy with whom I wanted to build a future... it's a pity that our plans were different. He took advantage of me without my consent; I have never felt so much physical and mental pain at one point, but it is still difficult for me to admit it and tell someone else. I still had a small hope in my heart that he would change, that we could build a family and raise you. However, he abandoned us, disappeared when he found out that I had you and said that if I wanted to go to the police, I would regret it, and he would shame me in front of the whole university and tell my family. I couldn't let that happen, especially to my family, I didn't want my parents to know that he had forced me to agree to be intimate. I was afraid of disappointing them, fearful they would start judging me. I had to decide what to do. 'I'm sorry, unblossomed flower, I couldn't love you, I can't love what was done with violence. I could not give you love because every time I would remember what happened to me, my heart would burn with pain and injustice, and you would not understand why I was angry with you. I still dream about that pain, the hospital and the judgmental looks of the medical staff.  I feel the light from the lamps hitting my eyes, I feel guilt and shame coursing through my veins, and my body is weakening from the anaesthetic. I whisper a million apologies to you before losing consciousness completely. When I woke up, I realised that this secret would forever scar my heart.

I would like to give you love, but perhaps what I did is my greatest expression of love. Be happy, my dear, and I will come to you, and every time I write to you, I will beg for your forgiveness."

In the middle of a quiet cemetery surrounded by tall poplars, there is a small grave with no photographs. An unblossomed tulip and this letter were on it , and a young girl knelt beside it. Her tears dripped onto the ground. She wiped them away, kissed the cross, and went out, carrying her burden further.