SUBJECT: Matt

Matt,

I know this is you. I heard your cries for help, the echo of our shared pain, on this newslist server for survivors.

I need you, Matt. I never stopped loving you, but I feared him more, needed him more. We are married in name, but I am a slave to this pretence of love, the bride to his lust. I am his co-conspirator, his willing and unwilling accomplice. A captive of my powerlessness. He wants in all. He eats my heart every day and fucks me back to life every night. I slipped into this dark dream, the pleasure like a scream… I fall.

I have tried to kill myself this year twice already, and everytime he has brought me back from the dead through sheer force of his will.

I cast my spells, and know that you are near. Travelling in Europe. Come to me, and fumble my heart back into one piece, if the shards will fit after all this time.

He does not know that I have written this. I slip in now, between the cracks to write to you, before I notice and confess my betrayal to him.

Come to Italy, Matt. Free me.

If you do not come, nothing matters any more.

Come with stealth, in the night, with blade in one hand and a wooden stake in the other. Cut me free. Kill him for me, and I will be yours forever.

Your,

Circe.