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I do not know who I am writing to. I don't know if this lands safely in their hands, but I want you to know that you should keep these notes of mine safe in a drawer somewhere. Make sure nobody close finds these documents, of this blog, and pray softly that the walls of this godforsaken facade won't close in on you. Make sure they're in a place where no man can reach. Where no sky can trace glorious stars; making ancient shapes of years. Tighten these files into a safe sunken down to nothing.

There is nothing left for you. There is nothing left for me. Only what remains is the path forward. Darkness.

08/13/03

A glorious day! The ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ is empty, but soon it'll be filled with a flourishing comfort of a new life before our eyes. Gone are the days of rebellious teens, and strict rules and minor allegations under grown ups, and here's to the perpetual release of freedom, and the forevermore . This morning I helped Ketts up by carrying the boxes–with our belongings and memorabilias–from the cargo truck inside the ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ; settling them down on the newly furinished floorboards. I looked at Ketts as we had placed it, and I could have not believe what I was seeing on his face.

It was a heartwarming smile; those pearly whites underneath the fleeting sunlight, and his brown eyes–so full of melancholic sentimentally, and tired warmth–pairing his expession that made my chest flutter with a trite gaiety. Ever since we had lived in the city; it was always a dull bleakness of citylines and busy streets, the people snarking with rude remarks and shoved us around. "You shouldn't be together." They spat with a coldness that chilled me to the core. "He's not right for you." At that point, I knew what they wanted. I knew they wanted to take our pride and burn it in the deepest, and darkest gates of fire. I hated it, but Ketts hated it more than me. He was angry, and so fed up; clenching fists, and baring his teeth as he pumped himself for impact. He wanted justice for himself, me and the whole group, and he fought for it. In the most of things, dirty streets and longterm fights dealt him a good, good influence on him, and I never did once see him in all his beauty–his smile.

Until now, his smile shined so bright, I can still remember it. "About time." I lightly teased him, and he faintly chuckled. "You wound me, Allen." He takes a couple steps towards me, and grabs my shoulders; a tender grip as he leans closer and kisses me right on the cheek. I have a chance to do something, and I do. I grab his shoulders a bit tightly then him, and enter a tepid embrace for a brief moment before we let go. "I love you, Ketts." I amiablely whisper under my breath. Ketts catches it, grinning. "I love you too."

Our dog, Cleo who is a labrador retriever, comes running towards us; barking with pleasure. She comes near Ketts first, and he scruffs behind her ears. "Who's a good girl, who's a good girl?" He hypes Cleo, with his "dog-talk" voice he likes to call. Cleo barks, and spins with playfulness. "You are. Cleo! You are." He chortles a bit, and upon Cleo turning to the next object, me, he turns to me. "Tonight, just the two of us, we dine." I catch himself whispering. I shoot a beam of pearly whites. "Of course."

08/13/03 [MIDNIGHT]

The table is covered with a dotted cream sheet. There is a dimly lit candle, scented of the oceanic waters of the seaside. It makes me feel a bit uneasy thinking about it. In front is a plate filled with a variety of bok choy, diced steak, pink skinned shirmps, two crab claws, oyster shells, and a finishing pile of pea shoots. I look up and see Ketts looking at me from across the table, munching on a piece of shirmp before swallowing. "So how do you like this so far?" I nod, "Pretty good. It's enough to get away from all of it. City life's tough on us." I give a slight smile before turning to the beach underneath the patio, feeling the teeth slipping away on my face. "Tomorrow we unpack, right?" I look back at Ketts who nods. "Yeah, we are." A deafening slience.

A unusual quiet settles on the both of us. We know what's on our minds, but none of us speak before the other.

"I won't let you go swimming." Ketts is the first to break, and my eyes widen a bit. "What?" I murmured. I watch as Ketts meets my gaze with a sterness I hadn't seen before. "You're thinking of the boat, aren't you? On that day." I pause on his words, and a undeniable dread pools in my chest, as I register his words clear and dear to my heart. "Yes." My tone is held firm, but my words come out shakily as I answer. What a pity that I couldn't be a scuba diver back then. I can't even swim, for the life of me, and it's all so cretinous that I even survived. He sighs, upon looking at my expressions as I thought. "You won't drown, Allen." He mutters. "Not when I'm here." He sheepishly simpers, and raises his glass. I follow after him, and with a clink of our wine, he says: "Here's to us, and and making this ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ours." My eyes shine bright that night.

That night, I dream of trascending through a cold and dark hallway. There is fog that stretches on forever, windows that show nothing but mirrors of the hallway in every directions, and pictures of us; Ketts's face ripped out and left behind a ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ shaped hole. Something is behind me.