There was a Reddit writing prompt that Story 97 fit right into, so I re-wrote it from scratch. I think this version is a bit better. Sadly the way the page layout and fonts here are if I want it to line up right I need to make it teeny. Instead I'm going to... not... and you'll just have to paste it into somewhere else if you want to see the lines match up properly.
Dearest Janet, I'm sorry I didn't write you sooner. Please know that I'm doing so much better now.
When I had those dark thoughts, those waking nightmares, I worried that I would never again know joy
but now it is all I know - I had hoped against hope that this retreat would help me find some peace
and I was right. I've had some time to meet the staff and to look around the grounds, and I've found
that this is possibly the best-run facility in the country. Something wonderful is in the air here,
something that surrounds us every waking moment and curls around us like a heavy blanket when we sleep.
A comforting presence created by the beauty of the gardens, the kindness of the staff. Happiness.
It takes my breath away. When I had those nightmares before I imagined that a monster followed me
but now it is love and support. I know you love me as well but in my despair I couldn't see that;
now I can see it as clear as day. The staff here have been taking myself and others into regular
therapy sessions, where through simple discussion and mutual affirmation we grow. So much better than
experiments and inhumane treatments - shock therapy, lobotomies, even more dark and obscure means
followed by lesser physicians and less reputable facilities. Where I used to honestly believe something
meant to harm my very soul, drive me insane, or worse - and I know some of the other patients here
believed the same - I now can look at each person I meet and see the goodness, the kindness. If I
vanished and never returned, without saying goodbye or being seen by the staff and patients here again
they would be heartbroken, such is the sense of family and community in this place. Still, I know that
I must leave. When you come to get me it will be difficult to go, difficult to walk out of this place.
Maybe I should stay a bit longer, if for no other reason than to bask in my newfound joy. No need to
come right away, to steal me out of here like a thief in the night. You could bring me something though,
maybe a photograph of your beautiful face. It is the only thing I miss. The city can keep its filth, its
guns. I would resolve to be done with it forever, to ensure I never again set eyes on the horrid shape of
the city skyline. Maybe we could live out here in the countryside? Here, where I see flowers and not
that monster. I shouldn't write about that. I wouldn't want someone to read this and get the idea that
I still suffer from my delusion. I assure you, I'm cured and happy once more - even if it seems like
every second thing I say is just nonsense. I trust that you, dearest one, will understand me.
It's time to go now. Thank you again, this place has saved me. The doctors here are angels, sent to
deliver me from the darkest depths. I love you. I hope I will hear from you soon. It's almost my turn
to go horseback riding, so I will end this letter here. If only you were here this place would be perfect
and I might never return home.
-- Alfred
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