Letter Eight

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Dear Mommy,

Don't worry, I only went to the kitchen to get myself a better knife. Actually, perhaps you should worry — as I entered — I saw something just leaving my sight.

But seeing things that weren't there — that's happened before. Hell, last week I thought I saw a mouse running around on the floor.

It's very late now, and my eyes are starting to droop. The sounds — in tandem — are slowly beginning to cease.

I guess I might have to delete these now.

Actually — I think I'll wait for tomorrow. I'm too tired to deal with anymore.

Just know that as my eyes drift to a soft close and my body relaxes against the surface of the bed, I'll be keeping my knife beside me, and I promise I'll be...

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