June 25th, 1869

Father has come and I am ruined. Ruined, ruined. There is no saving me, for I've dashed away all hopes of there being decent men in the world.

A few days ago I came across a mailboy and his horse coming from the city, as I thought I would. He seemed rather scared to see the town in its current condition. I don't blame him. I sent him away with a letter to my Father, explaining the situation, and I told him to hurry, as there is not a minute to spare. He took off quickly, for the state of disaster and emergency is quite evident. This lifted my spirits, because I thought I was one step closer to getting out of here. How wrong I was.

Father came, and he brought news of two things. The first: Ralph has finally spoken. It seems rather trivial now, the things he has to say. So much has happened since that initial attack. It seems like a lifetime ago. He did have some interesting things to say, but nothing of much use at this point. He hasn't much memory of the actual events, just peculiar flashes and feelings. The doctors said it's not unusual to have amnesia surrounding traumatising events. I'll paraphrase his story:

I saw a strange light, like a flash. I saw my own face, reflected and distorted through scarlet and silver. Heat, scorching heat. Like the Devil Himself used my bones for matchsticks. I smelled metal and blood. My outsides froze over and my insides boiled until there was nothing left. The Devil was here.

Evidently, Ralph does not believe it was another man who attacked him. He can hardly be blamed, and he’s been through enough. There’s no need now to push him for any more info. His story sounds like the delusions of a desperate, injured man. It’s sad, really. Who knows if he’ll ever be the same. I surely won't.

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Father’s second piece of news is about me. I have never been delivered worse information in my life. He’s done with me. Done with me. The town is gone, or going. It will be gone soon. He’s gone. Gone without me. He disowned me, and called me a disgrace, an embarrassment, a failure, worthless, unworthy. He said that sending me here was his true test for me. It was all a setup. He said that I have always been subpar, and this was my last chance, and I failed. I was supposed to find the attacker, and I was supposed to restore order to the town. This was my mission, and all I did was make everything worse. I cost him the town and his dignity. I made the company look foolish. And he left me here at the edge of the road, looking after his carriage as he drove away. I have nowhere to go and not a penny to my name.

There's nobody left in town. They all dispersed before he arrived. I don't have enough food or water to make it to the next town on foot. Nobody will be coming down the road to Deloro anymore. There is leftover food and shelter here, so I will remain. For how long, I don't know. For now I am huddled in one of the few standing buildings. There are dry, scratchy blankets and pasty, stale crackers. I hate myself and the world more than any man ever has. If life is determined to choke me, I’ll take God with me on my way Down.