The Pleading Letter

I’ve been saving this piece of charcoal to write a letter with for years or so it feels. The dim halls that are only lit by a few small torches make it impossible to tell the passage of time. It was daytime when they brought me here but heaven knows how long it’s been since that time. If I were to guess, I would say years it certainly feels like years every time the sound of scratching and screaming echoes down the hall. I don’t know who makes the screaming or what making the scratching sounds. Even though these noises echo every time I wake, I still have yet to see another soul. What would another soul even look like? The memories of others and even my own face have vanished over time. I try to see glimpses of myself in my water bowl but the water is too grimy to see anything. Not only has the memories of others vanished but so has the memories of the warm sun on my skin and the feeling of grass under my toes. The last memory that I have managed to hold onto from the outside is the building I’m inside. It was tall reaching all the way to the clouds. The inside had hundreds of staircases that twisted and turned up and down making it impossible for me to remember which ones we took or if I am high in the sky or low underground. How many fruits do you have to steal to get here? I don’t know but I stole one too many. I may not know where I am but my hope for this letter is whoever finds it does. It’s my last chance as I can hear the screams getting closer each time I wake up. Please, send help.

                                                                                                                 Signed Susana

(Thank you for reading to the end! please leave any suggestions in the comments.)


4 thoughts on “The Pleading Letter

  1. This isn’t a part of the other story, right? Susanna seems like such an anticlimactic name for such an intense letter! Maybe a last name would help?


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