Letter Contents
Bebrudd,
I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe because you’re the only one who might still care. We were friends. Real friends. We fought together, built something together, and trusted each other. I thought if anyone would come for me, it’d be you. But you didn’t. You got saved, and I got left behind.
Do you have any idea what that did to me? Waking up like this, still in the same body, but wrong. Cold. Dead. Hearing your voice in my head, thinking maybe it was all just a horrible dream.
It wasn’t.
It’s been hell, Bebrudd. Every day still feels like the one I died on. Terror. Agony. Death. I can’t go back. I can’t laugh without it sounding wrong. I can’t breathe, no matter how hard I try. I can’t feel the sun or the wind or even warmth. Food tastes like nothing in my mouth. Music doesn’t sound the same. Nothing does. I wish I could, gods, I wish I could. I wish I could sit beside you again, just once, and feel like a person. But that part of me’s gone. All of it’s gone.