Letter No. 6

I don't know how many days have passed. I did not take any tests. I live in a single cell. Mrs. Tomiko was moved to another cell the next day. I kept track of the days through the two meals I received, morning and evening. Or so I think they were counted. They allowed me to have a pen and a few sheets on which to write things down without losing my mind.

This letter is about you, as are the others.

Today, everything seemed to be going badly since I opened my eyes. Last night's meal, which flooded my mind with a purple after the three kinds of porridge I almost put on my throat, said its word around noon when I finally decided it was time to wake up. . I still wanted to sleep, to dream, to feel, but something inside me wanted to break that reassuring moment.

It didn't take long for sadness to monopolize me, covering me with a sheet full of pain and complexes. I'm too weak, I'm too lazy, I'm too dreamy, I'm too romantic, I'm too stupid. I'm not so smart, I'm not so beautiful, I'm not so funny. And in this rhyme I held it for a few times when my eyes did not shrink from crying. Far too hot tears slid down her cheeks, caressing and caressing them as if she were talking to them and telling them that all would be well.

I'm a murderer.

Everything is better because then you showed yourself to me the day after you thought of leaving this world without notifying anyone. Unfortunately, there are many things I can't tell you. I asked you to show yourself in front of me and no matter how much I wanted to do the same, something in me stopped my thoughts. I open my mouth and I want to tell you so much, and in the end my mind freezes, frees itself from any thought and I end up saying anything else except what I really wanted to confess no.

I miss feeling your body next to mine and more, I miss your hug. I miss waking up in the morning and being on the edge of the bed or in the kitchen while I wash the dishes. I miss stroking me when I barely wake up. I miss looking into your eyes and getting lost in that shade of blue that I can't stand precisely because I see my whole existence. I'm sad when I look at you, I'm sad when I see myself in your eyes and I'm sad when we kiss. It's not a painful sadness. In fact, I have felt this kind of sadness, of deception only once in my life. Like when I was on the mountain in the fourth world. Then, as now, I feel like I'm really alive.

I miss you.

I had a few sadistic but not suicidal thoughts. Moreover, I wanted to take my days off as long as you were gone, as long as you were chased by the demon, and as long as you thought about me. But only because I miss you so much and I don't know how to control the amalgam of feelings I have and feel every time I just think about you. Then my condition worsened. I wanted to take my days because I didn't think I had enough. Maybe I'm not. Maybe they are.

I'm a witch locked in a cell, probably sentenced to death. The only thing I am aware of is that when I saw you, more immersed in fear and agony than enlightened by happiness, my moods passed. I didn't want to break up in any way like that. And then I realized that this idea is out of the question, that I can't live without you and that I will somehow save you.

I'm sorry, though, that I'm going to disappear. I'll probably be killed by tomorrow. But I've been thinking about this for too long and nothing happens.

I think I love you.

In the evening I fall asleep thinking of you, and in the morning I wake up thinking of you. Now, writing this and reminding me of all my sins and problems, I feel like crying. But I don't want to let the tears come out because this is a different moment of weakness.

I must sleep. Probably tonight I'll hug the floor and take myself in my arms and I'll just think about the hug you'll give me when we see each other. That's my only expectation. I want to see you, hug you as hard as I can, and feel my breath cut there. I want to feel you, I want to look at you, I want to kiss you.

I definitely love you and you know it, Nagamine.