1872 I write today to you Mr. Lawson, for a very particular reason. One of the properties my husband recently acquired seems to have come to us filled with mystery. I will not keep you too long with this, so I will make this brief. Enclosed, I have sent numerous letters Jensen and myself have found in increasingly odd places, not limited to: Under a floorboard, behind two broken mirrors (only enough, both mirrors were facing directly towards each other), and even one hanging from a piece of twine in the attic. It would be greatly appreciated if you could look these over and do try and come up with some explanation. With love, Addeson.
1734
It is so cold. So very, very cold. He likes the cold. Ma and Pa left for the evening and I am alone. I hate being alone. He scratches only when I am alone. He comes down from the attic only when I am alone. He is big and I dislike him very much. He makes me have bad thoughts. He pounds at my door at night; rattling the door frame until it quite nearly comes down. He leaves only when the warmth of daylight returns. He looks like a big goat, eyes like a-
1737
Ma and Pa do not believe me when I tell them of him. When I tell them he comes into my room at night, his throat making sounds like rusty gears grinding. The say he does not exist. Yet I know he does. He does. He does. He does. he does I swear he does. I swear I am not crazy. I swear it, I swear it, I swear it, I swear, I swear, I swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear! I see him. I hear him. I see him when he moves my mirrors so they may face each other. He scratches at them, just as he did before he was brave enough to open my door. He seems to talk to them. Ma and Pa do not believe me when I tell them of him. When I tell them he comes into my room at night, his throat making sounds like rusty gears grinding. The say he does not exist. Yet I know he does. He does. He does. He does. he does I swear he does. I swear I am not crazy. I swear it, I swear it, I swear it, I swear, I swear, I swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear! I see him. I hear him. I see him when he moves my mirrors so they may face each other. He scratches at them, just as he did before he was brave enough to open my door. He seems to talk to them. Ma and Pa do not believe me when I tell them of him. When I tell them he comes into my room at night, his throat making sounds like rusty gears grinding. The say he does not exist. Yet I know he does. He does. He does. He does. he does I swear he does. I swear I am not crazy. I swear it, I swear it, I swear it, I swear, I swear, I swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear, swear! I see him. I hear him. I see him when he moves my mirrors so they may face each other. He scratches at them, just as he did before he was brave enough to open my door. He seems to talk to them. Ma and Pa-
1742
Ma and PA have finally seen him. They finally have sene him. They’ve seen him. I knew they would. I knew they would have too! They have seen him. They know him now, just like I do. However, now they lay still. Ma looks pale, her skin seeming to melt right off of her petite little body. A look a terror was etched across her face, a very similar look to Pa. He caressed Pa’s face, leaving Pa’s face all bloody, bloody and nice looking. AP always looked good in red. Now that they have met him, I wonder if they will finally believe me. I hope they do. I cannot stand how cold the house has become.
1750
He has returned after a long period. I found myself missing him. I like him. I like him when he is here. He placed a rope around my neck last night. He told me tonight I would fall and d-
The clouds that circled where the ravens flew were as dark as onyx. The clouds showered a rain that would chill even the toughest mountain climbers to their cores. They would shake and beg to return inside to warm by their fires. But the winds that howled in harmony with the wolves, would not be so merciful. The winds would claim small, harmless pebbles.. and turn them into the stones that slew Goliath. But as the winds grew stronger, and the rain swelled, not even David would have been able to stand in the way of rolling destruction. As the hours pass, one would begin to see the sun. Peeking cautiously from behind a cloud, as if testing to see if it were safe to begin shining once more. The sun would smile and bounce, as it was no longer locked away from the earth it so dearly loved to shower in warmth. It would commence singing for the birds, waiting desperately for their sweet reply. But it would never come. The song of the birds and the howling of the wolves, the flapping of the ravens wing and the warm crackle and pop of the fire was gone. And what lay in there stead was nothing but lonely quite. The silence that filled the air was shackles around the throat. Choking and violence, terrifying and full of new anguish. But if someone were to stop. To stop struggling against the chains of silence, and press their ear to the sloppy earth, they would hear life as it once was. They would hear the worm squirming among the roots. They would hear a seed popping open with the promise of new life. A new beginning. Just because there is a storm, filled with sadness and hardship, does not mean it is the end. It is part of the story of your life. The climax you must face to see another day. And by the time you see the words “The End” flashing across the screen of your life, the sun will have gained its confidence and walked you hand in hand back to the light. There will always be storms. But just behind that storm, waiting impatiently, is the dawn of a new beginning.