Autumn, 26th of October

My dear Desean,

I finally felt a chill in the air today, which is saying a great deal for me. It's been quite some time since I felt anything at all, so the shift in air temperature against my skin was almost alarming, until I realized what it was. It was nice, though. It reminded me of you. But who am I kidding. Everything reminds me of you. I wake to the morning rays sliding through the curtains of my window and I see how they fell on your face all those years ago. The smell of fresh coffee brewing, the sound of the shower running, the tinkling of laughter from the TV. You're in everything and yet you're not here at all.

Why'd you have to go? Why'd you have to step over that threshold, smile back at me and tell me you'll see me soon? Did you know you were lying to me or did you really believe it? Am I a fool that I still believe you'll return to me? Am I a fool for thinking I'll ever hold you in my arms again?

I heard it again today, in the early hours of the morning. The scraping sound coming from the attack. It's like sharp metal being dragged against the wooden floor. I've already gone up there and politely asked whoever it is to keep it down, but I don't suppose they hear me because the noise persists. It happens nearly every morning now. I guess I'll have to take them a bit of bread and ask again.

It's getting harder and harder to hunt for the winter. As the days grow longer, it seems there are fewer creature interested in my traps. And from what I do catch, most of it has been touched by disease and I have to let it go again. I can't risk getting sick again, not yet. That'll come as a last resort. Eating something of the Nether-Blight comes at a great cost, and making that choice has to be worth it. At this rate, I'll have to make more Blight-cure, but only if I find more of those mushrooms you taught me how to forage for.

I don't know, Desean. It feels like I might not be able to do this for much longer. The Netherwoods are calling out again, they're beginning to scream and wail, crying out for... something. And I can hear the baying of the hounds again, too. I'm starting to feel like it's only a matter of time before they come looking for more than just the remnants lost in the woods. The funny thing is part of me wants it, to be dragged away. Anything to get me away from here. I can sense my sanity slowly dripping away, and all I can do is grip tighter to whatever reality I currently sit in. And wait. Desparately trying to keep hope.

Come home, Desean. Before it's too late.

Love Truly,

Maelys