Dear Juliet,



You should not fear the terror of night. As it is night right now, when I'm writing this to you. Up in the attic where the dust and the bugs live. When I was a child I was afraid of the bugs. I dreamt that they would eat me up, when I laid on the floor rotten and with no stories left to tell. They would attack me and suck up the blood and eat my flesh. But now, Juliet, I am not afraid of them. I let them touch my skin and I play with them a little. I feel we understand each other. I can tell my secrets to them without being afraid that they will tell anyone about them. Frankly, it is only you my dear, who know every single little detail of my stories.
But, I forgot to tell you about this abandoned house I found near the lake. I live here now. It is safe for me. I am closer to death than ever.
Say, Juliet, will you ever come visiting me? I can remember the smell of your skin still and I want to hold you in my arms again. Once I do, I can be whole again.

Juliet, I haven't told him yet. I do not know whether I should or not. It is a child’s body, in fact a girl.
She has long curly hair, red/brown. A little blue dress with white lace on. I put her to sleep in the trunk where I kept the butterflies. I put the butterflies in her hands and she looks more peaceful now.

I cleaned up all the blood. The bugs didn't like it, but I had too.

Your Alice