Unsent Letters: The Darkness

Dear John,
It's dark. So dark. They tell me it won't always be like this - but how would they know. They tell me that like night, day finally comes ... but really, what's the point of day. It's just walking death.

I wish I could hear your voice - something tangible, something real to hold onto in the darkness. You'd think I would have grown out of my fear of the dark but it seems more real now than when we were kids.

I'd blame you - but it's not your fault. I'd give anything now for you to be hiding around the corner from the toilet door - ready to spring out and scare the shit out of me.

Well I am scared. More scared than I have ever been.

Are you scared too John?

Sissy xx