Hello again, my dears. I’m terribly sorry I haven’t written recently, but dear Morgan and I have been rather busy escaping federal agents and other unsavory types. We’re currently in lovely Wyoming, staying at a small hotel. I’m writing to you from the hotel room balcony, taking advantage of the sky’s remarkable clarity to do a little stargazing. I don’t have any interesting stories to tell today, no new examinations to detail or derring-do to relate to you. Instead, if I may, I would like to outline some of my thoughts. You don’t mind that, do you dears? Good.
For…several years now, I can’t remember how many, I’ve served Father. I was always glad to do so, as he’d given me something I never had before.
I did his bidding, following the gentle impressions in my mind as best I could. I made mistakes early on, and was punished, and learned from it. I was a good servant. Some of you have seen traces of my work in the tales of Runners or other of Father’s children, though I name no names. A good servant takes pride in her work, and cares not for fame or infamy that may come with the recognition of the true scope of their work. In my off time (which I had a surprising amount of), I would pursue my own hobbies of reading, composing music, and performing anatomical examinations of unique individuals. I have shared the results of some of these examinations with you, my dear readers. My hobbies are my joy and my pleasure. This only makes recent events all the more disturbing. I have related to you my doubts concerning my recent tasks, though I carried them out as befits a proper aide. Those doubts have only increased over the last few days.
Mr. Stern appears to rather enjoy being a servant of Father, though his face normally betrays no emotion. His sarcastic smirks, his arrogant posture…they make me uneasy. I have associated with Redlight in the past, without fear. This boy, though, scares me. He is dangerous. And I believe I am becoming less so.
I have also found myself remembering people and places I’m quite certain I’ve never seen. I am losing distressingly large amounts of time, dears, wherein I will apparently travel or otherwise go about normal activities without anyone noticing anything different about me. I understand from my reading that I am not the only of Father’s servants (or adversaries) to suffer this malady, so I’ll attempt to keep it at the edges of my thoughts. The memories concern me, though. The most prevalent one has me as a small child, in a place that appears to be rather near the polar regions. It may be Sweden, considering the architecture and geography. I am sitting on a dock, feet swinging just above the water. I’m young, wearing a purple dress and a flower in my hair. A woman calls to me in Swedish, which I somehow understand. She’s wanting me to come in for dinner. The house she is standing in front of is the only one around, indicating that we live in a secluded area. I stand, running to her. I can feel myself smiling as I mount the porch and land in her arms. The memory ends here.
I have no idea what this means, dears. The emotions in it are…different than those I feel now. I suppose, were I pressed for description, I would say that they felt purer, unaltered. More and more, memories of this type are surfacing. I’m also starting to note contradictions or outright fabrications in my own memories since I joined with Father. I’m no longer entirely certain of my mission or my actions, dear readers. I hope you will forgive me if there is some slight vacillation in my future actions. A path I had once believed to be sure and true is now in question. I shall continue as I am for now, however, I shall be slightly more cautious in my actions.
Ta ta for now, my dears.