November 25, 1999
Dear Jane,
It is almost Thanksgiving. I have never understood this holiday. It is a day to celebrate all the good in one's life. It came about by the Indians feeding the settlers. Sharing their food. What did the Indians get for their generosity? The Trail of Tears and the subjugation of their land. Yet, this is the day to thank God for all that you have. I suppose no one really thinks about the history of it anymore. Ah, well. The Americans like it.
You must forgive me, Jane, for I am not in the best of spirits. I cannot help it. The... anniversary... is so near. I find myself locked in remembrances of times past. All too frequently, I trap myself in a cycle of remembering something happy, only to remember our parting. All of it is in such vivid detail. I wonder if other people remember things the way I do. I doubt it.
Also, I had a particularly bad nightmare today. I was looking for something. Something very important. It was lost. As I looked for it, I became lost, too. I found myself in a room that seemed familiar somehow. Then, I realized I was standing in the center of a ritual circle. One that I had drawn. It was a memory - but someone else's memory. I was in the middle of a major ritual. My sacrifice, a virgin boy, had been gutted from throat to navel and his blood had been drained into the caldron.
It was at this point that something went wrong. I forgot the words or misspoke them. The blood in the caldron began to boil, turning black. Somehow, it came alive, flowing out of the ritual vessel towards me. I had no where to go. It surrounded the circle, then broke in, flowing towards me. All I could do was watch in a helpless terror.
It formed a pool beneath me within the circle. I screamed as I began to sink into it. I slashed at it with my ritual blade to no avail. It began to crawl up my body, as if it could not consume me fast enough. I felt my legs grow cold, then numb. It dragged me deeper within it, consuming me whole. I screamed the whole time. I finally woke up just as the black blood was forcing itself into my mouth, dragging me totally under...
I could not stop the scream as I awoke. I had the most horrible taste in my mouth. I retched blood for what seemed to be hours. I know it was not that long because I managed to make it to my training session on time. I know I looked horrible. Booker gave me his 1000 yard stare, but asked me no questions. Maybe I should go to him about these nightmares. I just do not want him to think I am crazy. But, if I do not do -something- soon, they -will- drive me insane.
Love,
Kayley
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