Dear R,
Are you proud? Are you weeping tears of joy? Do you smile at the thought of my pain? Do you bask in the glory of a successful project?
Humanity is like you said, a fragile thing. Morality even more so. You always did like to seem philosophical. I can't say I miss your ramblings. That's one thing that has not changed. Honesty. Such a flimsy little thing. Did you ever have it?
You hated me. Purely because I asked "too many damned questions." But I think most of it was because I asked the ones that made you reveal the truth to me. I think that's what made me the best of them.
You molded and plucked at me. You changed everything but my need for answers. No matter what you did I would always ask "Why?" And if that failed me I would ask as many versions of that beautifully simple word as I needed to inorder to get the answers I so desired.
Are you proud? Not of yourself, but of me?
I am.
Forever my own,
Silvia
YOU ARE READING
The Institution
Mistério / SuspenseLetters written by two (possibly more) "patients" at a late 1800's - early 1900's women's mental institution. My friend and I are writing this together. Updates will be random. Sneaky references to songs and books published before and after the time...
