One day I woke up and could feel the breeze on my face.

It was pleasant; a warm brush of spindly wind fingers that ghosted over my cheeks, ruffled through my hair. There was the gentle tapping of branches against the windows of the school, the muffled murmuring voices of the students as they passed by, the quick footsteps of a teacher running late to class, the sounds of a lepus whining at its master.

Was there ever even a day like this? It seems to perfect; abnormal, here in HalloweenTown. We are not so pleasant here; there is darkness, blackness, a never ending pit of anger and frustration and FEAR; the thing that we are all made up of. It twists us, contorts us, flows through our very veins to make us who we are, who we are supposed to be.

And I am not outside. I am inside, trapped within the walls of my own mind.

Speaking of FEAR, my hand still aches; sometimes it even burns, radiating with a pain so intense I feel the need to sit in front of the minifridge located in my room and stick my hand between the bottles of soda and the chip dip LW used to bring over, back when we had our Scario Kart nights.

...how long has it been since we've had a night like that, I wonder? Since long before the field trip, at the very least, and even then we have not had a night to ourselves in so long. Neither have we had a night with all four of us. Why is this? Why did we let it get so far?

I told myself over and over again that these emotions are pointless. Forming attachments is a useless thing because you only get hurt in the end. Hasn't life always taught me this? I am a monster; a gryphon, and I live only to do what I have been instructed to do. Isn't that what life is about? Doing only what you are told to do, without letting your emotions get in the way?

Isn't that what you've always taught me, Mother?

Did you know I died, by the way? On that island, the one we went on a field trip to last week. Did you know I was attacked not once, but twice, but hooded reapers who beat me nearly to death and stabbed me through the hand? Did you know that it was GABRIAN - a DEMON - who saved my life? Who pulled me out of my oblivion and kept me sane? And did you know that it was my beautiful ghoulfriend who held my hand the whole time, who told me not to be a hero because she didn't want anything to happen to me? Did you know that my best friend, the werewolf, was willing to sacrifice her own life in order to protect mine?

Did you know that I was attacked from behind and killed right in front of their eyes?

And did you know, Mother, that ever since my FEAR returned me to my body that I can't sleep because of the nightmares I have?

No. You didn't know. Because you don't care enough to know.

Goodbye, Mother. Give my regards to Father and Medieval for me.

Sincerely yours,

Ren


He looked at the letter for several long moments, as if contemplating whether or not to actually send it. The top of his desk was strewn with crumpled parchment, half spilled ink, as if he had tried several attempts at writing already and had failed. With a sigh, Ren leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly. He exhaled slowly. Then sat up, carefully folded the letter into thirds, pushed it into the addressed envelope, and slipped out to find the nearest mailbox.