In spite of everything, this war
which stands, changing delicately everything and spreads
I still exist. I still breathe.
Bravely, of course
(you do not hear the sobs)
for,
my love.
I really should of been eating. That took everything of me.
All my strength.
All my fortitude.
All my willpower.
All my everything.
I knew my error the moment she stepped towards the furnace. No I lie. I knew it the moment the words passed my parched lips. I had said too much. Taken it too far. And sometimes the truth just isn’t what people want to hear. Especially when it concerns family. Always when it comes to family.
But in my defence: a lack of food, and spending my time in a small putrid cell, gagged, blindfolded and bound brings with it a certain level of insanity. And I certainly had that a plenty.
I know. I know. Not eating. Not my brightest ideas. Down right stupid really. How could I have thought that making myself –weaker– would aid me in this at all. I think I just.. gave up several weeks ago. Again. I blame my own insanity brought about by this foul place. Why am I not fighting this. Not truly fighting. I am letting it happen. I swear Adumbral I will not go down without a fight.
My fiery foot now loans me more pain than you can possibly imagine. Like a thousand fires tearing through my leg all at once. I know I don’t have long. My body is too weak. And I can feel the fever now at the edges of my mind. Fighting to take over. I keep it at bay with this wine. Just. I feel my insides heating up.
I want to talk to the one that put me here. I have sent him word, let’s see if he is brave enough to face me. Eye-to-eye. What kind of man are You?
