Prologue - A Letter To You

Pale hands gently unfolded the paper

Letter No.49

02-21-XX10

Dear Angela,

I’ve been thinking about you, even now in this time of conflict. I wonder if it is my everlasting infatuation for you, or my stubbornness that keeps me thinking about you, let alone writing these letters to you. But I still do, I still plan on sending this letter out into the void that you have presented to me. Do you get these? Do you read them? Do you even care? I guess in our time apart I have grown slightly bitter towards your silence, but I know you would not ignore me without good reason. I just wish I knew that reason.

I am sure you know that The War is soon coming to a close, we might be winning, I am not sure of it. That young man I wrote to you about a few months ago, Paul, passed on a few weeks ago, an artillery shell. With loss and death happening, still we are being told about an end in sight, I am sure you can understand my pessimism... No? I am still uninjured though, this has presented me with a sort of… Guilt? I am not sure, but I see a glint of hatred in the eyes of my fellow soldiers, that hatred is directed at me I believe. With all this death happening around us, I feel like they are angry at me for being essentially unharmed, and I feel like they are probably right. Why am I fine while others are not?

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Since Paul, I have not really made any more friends, and in that time I have been thinking more about you, and the moments when I do I can feel the cool breeze across my face, I can hear the trees and brush in the wind, for those brief moments the screams are drowned out of my tormented ears, and I feel apart from this hell...

How are you? Wherever you are, I cannot know without you telling me, so I am sorry if I ramble along about myself too much, old friend. I still hope to God that you read these, even after these long 10 years since we have last spoken, and I hope in 10 more years you are still reading them. Even if you are happy and with a family, and I am dead and buried, I hope you still read and cherish these letters to you, My Beloved Angy.

* From Your Zee

Tears start to dampen the page, and a woman lets out a small whimper, trying her best to stay silent.

“Zee…” The woman shakily says under her breath.