Collected letters

Letters and articles

Author unknown

"Aggressive or noisy children are not tolerated. Anger is a feud within the soul that we must tame before birth or not at all." Aslin Jin II, 0001

Our faces must be silent and cool. We must fold our emotions behind them like laundry and keep them locked tight in the back drawer. Emotions bring with them War. With war come death and suffering, thus we discover the root and we tear it out!

Empathy is not tolerated, to feel for another is to feel all the same and thus, it is part and parcel of the problem.

Those that are cool in the face are cool of heart and are truly human. We can live in peace, and are content. We fulfill our physical needs and the world is at peace with itself.

For, an apathetic existence is a peaceful one and we will live together in harmony.

Still, there are some that slip through the testing. For those few, there is 'The Sleep' to calm their suffering.

We must put them out of their misery, it is not mercy but common sense.

We must choose our "Caretakers"with care.

To allow an aggressive child to live past sunset is a shameful thing.

............

'Old trees fall to sleep

Under feather snow blankets

Seeds are sown unseen'

C.

The seeds are sown and all I have to do is wait for them to grow. The day to day running of the Nursery is boring but I enjoy the monotony. Each leaf I see sprout, every flower that blooms is a victory and a new friend to greet everyday. It is the little things that keep me here in the moment. They help me see the joy in the little things, and not revel in the longing for what I have given away. I think of you every time a flower blooms and I pretend that I am the one showing you how to care for them. Like I am teaching you and we are creating beautiful things, together.

I imagine it's your eyes I see light up when the first blooms of spring are here, it's your small hands caressing the new shoots coming up from the cold ground after a cold winter frost. I indulge this fantasy because I know it will be all I have of you. All the words I would want to share with you, my little flame, are instead held fast within these pages. They have long since overflowed the banks of my heart and mind. I could not keep them to myself and remain sane.

I want you to know, if you are reading this , that you were loved and longed for. Your absence is felt and mourned. I know you live and that is the only stability I have in this fragile thing I call a life. I am lonely but that is my cross to bear. I chose it.

I wanted to give you everything. That I couldn't give it to you hear tears me to pieces. it's painful but I can stand it knowing that wherever you are, you have everything I could never give you.

Know you are loved.

M.

'A leaf in the wind

Blown by storm caught by

flowing water held'

C.

I wasn't born here. I have vague memories of a dark cool place with many tall trees. The plants in the Observatory remind me of that place, the green place that only lives in my dreams now.

I remember running through dappled light, through rain and laughter. Bare feet among blankets of rough woven fibers.

I want you, my daughter, to have some idea where she came from, to know that her mother did not give her up for nothing. I had two other children taken from me and I could not lose you that way, it would have broken me. I could not keep you either. I made a choice before it was taken from me, again.

The last thing I give you, my little blue eyed girl, is a name, one that I hope will guide you and help you flourish in the dark days to come. It is a name that I will carry to my grave. It is like a flickering flame in my heart. The last bit of fire in me that hasn't been extinguished by this place. That fire will live in you.

Chloe.

M.

C.

There is a new girl today. She has such sad eyes, grey like the sky after it rains but there is anger there as well, sparking in the depths and smoldering. I can understand it, that helpless frustration. It's a familiar look, one I see in the mirror regularly.

I see so much of myself in her.

Perhaps I can help her and help myself as well. She looks so solemn sitting there, so alone.

A.

C.

Novices are not allowed to speak. I had forgotten. Its been so long since I first came here. I look back at my past entries and cannot quite remember how I survived without going mad. The silence was unbearable at first. The chatter in my head had no other outlet until one of the older sisters gave me my first journal. It was a crude thing, I still have pieces of it woven into later books. I had to find pen and it but it was worth the trouble, the first few entries are just random words on paper, jumble thoughts spilled out haphazardly with no order or structure. It was a relief to be able to unload. The words are hard to read, the relief palpable even after so much time.

The pen was clumsy in my hand, like I couldn't write fast enough to catch everything, and much was lost.

It took time, but I got the hang of it though.

I sought her out, the new girl, bringing an apple to share between us. I saved it from last night's dinner.

She glared at me, so suspicious. Her half was gone almost as soon as it was in her hands.

Do they not have food in the wastes? She cannot answer.

I sat with her until 1st and 2nd bells, then smiled at her before I left. She did not smile back but I am not surprised or even offended. After all, she had just been brought in from the wastes.

I will meet with her again tomorrow, I saved a pear from tonight's dinner for us to share.

Goodnight, C.

Love A.

C.

Another year has gone, I miss you so much. I wish that you could meet this girl. She reminds me of you, you could be the same age, she looks about 18 and far too skinny.

We share meals now, and while we cannot speak we share a kind of communication between us. She has a lovely smile, you would like it I think but her eyes remain so terribly sad. Her name is Fiona. She wrote it down for me and I like the sound of it. It sounds right and suites her, just like Chloe suits you my little love.

Happy name day!

love  A.