II

"Dear reader, if it is Mr. Garret then I am delighted and if you are not Mr. Garret, then I am afraid I need to make an amend and ask of you to let these letters rot in a pothole! Mr. Garret, you must be discomposed by my own claims of having a preposterous relationship with you, but if you read my haranguing then you may respectively understand every prospect of my life as you may deserve. I had not been persuaded patiently by any souls, not now and either before my hazardous acts, and perhaps it may well be the reason for my crimes. Before I could venture to 1890, I must confirm a lot of facts about myself, I was born in 1874.

I should give my attention to my parents, my ancestors had a farm that we held, and I had been detained by the work of farms as long as I could remember, the farm was so gorgeous that my eyes could heed on tirelessly, there was a forest that no soul could restrict the enjoyment of soothing sound that were produced by the birds. I had the habit, it was to concealing some time for myself in regards to consuming all the happiness and yet all the prescient sadness that the forest was offering. I must confess, the birds had not convinced me to look at them with my love, instead I have spotted the fear in their eyes and vindictive, helplessness.

There is no doubt they are soothing but they reeked with deformities for themselves. I must return to the topic, one night, I was troubled by the stile that was destroyed by Lucy, oh dear, I miss Lucy, she holds a special place in my heart, I wonder what had become of her, perhaps she is alive and happily living in a big round field and there should be not a meagre of grass and far beyond she could only spot the greenery, the stile is so far away from her that she never has the feeling of confined forcefully, perhaps this is how I send a satisfactory to my heart. Mr. Garret, be patient for my sake, I beg your pardon.

I shall talk about my parents now. I had detained myself to the reparation of the stile, as I was working, the steam had risen to the sky and my eyes could only heed the house that was writhing with fire, my body lost all sensation of the soul that I could even stand still, I never moved and never spoke until I spotted my parents, those men! They had vile intentions for us, perhaps they were jealous of our farm, I must inform you I still do hold the vehemence and the urge to trample them most grievously. With the suppressed anger with which I ran, my concentration focused on my mother, as she saw me, the tears ran down her cheeks. I wasn't afraid in any way Mr. Garret, I had a burning rage and envious feelings. As I went closer, a bullock bastard held my arm and captured me. My mother had screamed, poignant as it was, her scream had only the sense of suffering and the miserable worry, for myself. I still have her words concealed in my mind, her lips were fluttering with a pang of emotion that was not meant to surpass.

"Please spare my child, please spare my child, I beg you, you must spare my child if your belief has been engaged with Jesus in any way----"

I should not indulge in my mother's emotions, I suppose I should let it grave into my inmost heart. They had a pretty good laugh at my parents sir, they must have enjoyed themselves to see us in the position in which we tumbled upon, no amount of cruelty could have extracted a piteous answer from my father's mouth, he was a pure gentleman and had not even cared to raise his fingers onto as something small as an ant, and as intelligible as it stand against my eyes, we had been spied by every one of them and their jealousy aroused as our good fate aroused. It made me feel sad ----- and also angry.

You shall see the farm, Mr. Garret, it still holds the beauty that it once was known for, though do not dare to set foot into the house, as there are only the rotten and snugged souls in those walls, I was there in between the cruelty but they had exposed me to choose the position that I should occupy as I would have a feeble sibling to take care of. But that could not be enough, for the forbearance within myself to not help my parents in any way but as I said I was in no avail to help them. When they readied to end their life, I saw it, in their eyes, the matchable fear, the vindictive and hopelessness, as they tied them to a tree and set fire to them, the hopelessness that I hated for a long time, then I wondered would it awash my eyes as well if I tumble upon a similar position? Have the birds always been trapped in this position? And I am yet to receive any kind of answers for them!"

Mr. Garret had his focus stolen when the door opened, it was the handler, he had fulfilled his employment and was standing still to inform Mr. Garret.

"Sir, forgive me if I am discomposing you in any way but I am here to inform you that we have reached our destination,"

The house shone against his eyes and the peculiarity of the wind had him writhed with no ease feeling he sought, he gave a smile to the handler and gripped his fingers onto the pages.

"Very well then, thank you." Mr. Garret took his departure and stayed against the entrance of the place for his sojourn. The odor of flowers had radiated through and he stepped to the veranda, the odor of familiarity reeked the greenery and it deliberated him to settle down and prepare himself for a small session of reading, perhaps to disperse himself into the small world of Evelyn.