Charles,
I’d almost thought you’d forgotten about me. It has been so long since our last correspondence. Something is forming within me, Charles. Something that was conceived on that warm Bolivian night. It was heavenly then. Whether the child within me is good or evil is yet to be determined. But his power will rival that of Jesus Christ. He is, after all, the son of God. I fear that Alex will reach him somehow and use him to do his will.
Erica Friedman is a midwife that I have hired. She is known throughout Central America for her spiritual and holistic medical expertise. She is a mysterious woman, who speaks as though the entire world is on the verge of collapse. And it is. She practices a form of hypnotism that can, depending on the mother’s preferences, obliterate or, in my case, intensify the pain of birth.
As for the others, well, if you are or were angry, I understand. I deserve it. I fucked up. Know that now, all that matters to me is you and my unborn child. Maybe you are not God, but you are my savior. And I am the one who should be sorry. I am the murderess. I am the killer. This has never been my intention, yet it seems to be my calling. Everything will change, I know this.
Cuando el sol cayes al mar, todo cambia.
We will weather the maelstrom. I cannot leave this place now. I am bound to the soil here. Here dwells the Lord, and yes, he will bless us and keep us, regardless of our sins. They’ll never catch me now.
Know that I miss you, and that we will be together in the end. When the world falls down, we will be side by side. I pray that I will see you sooner rather than later. Until that time, te quiero. Adios mi amor.
Karen Mitchell