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[Journal Entry]

Dear Marni,

My heart is heavier than usual as I put pen to page to write this letter to you. Aramat, dear Aramat, my strange little flower, has been crushed, killed suddenly. At least there is a team of detectives seeking to find her killer, but there is still a hole in the garden of my life.

Death was no stranger in our world: people were taken from us every day and suddenly, but somehow, you and I never grew hardened to it as so many did. You helped me to keep from growing as cynical as so many in our world: I miss her, but it is a good feeling to have. It means that her weird little life was not lived in vain, that she mattered to someone and that someone was me. I shall miss her playing and her companionship, but I pray that she has found a happier life.

Perhaps she is there with you now, my angel: if she is, take care of her; she is a wounded soul, much like me, and her wounds caused her to turn inward, as I nearly did. But perhaps you can help her as you helped guide me into the light.




( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Apr. 14th, 2012 05:25 am (UTC)
:: offers a handkerchief::
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