Five: Read this Letter When You Reconvene With a Stranger

   I ponder many things, in the cabin. It isn't as if I have anything else to do... Sleep, write, cut, the voices dictate me. Have you read these letters? I don't suppose you would, considering what I did... I, I had to. I've justified myself many times, I know I sound repetitive. I needed to tell you why I write. You have to know my reasoning, my story, you have to. Maybe you will understand... Though I do not believe... I am unsure.
   What if all humans view colors differently? Brown, beige, white, the color of the walls, the colors of the cabinetry, the color of the floors, what if they are not brown and beige  and white? The voices tell me I'm being stupid, but I believe I use to enjoy pondering the mysteries of life... My past is muddled by the voices, the fears, the cuts, deeper and deeper into my skin.
   It is November. Autumn. The leaves are changing to vibrant colors, orange, red, they're dying, showing their true colors.
   The death of plants attract tourist, we claim they're gorgeous.
   Perhaps we all wish we could show our true colors, instead of having to let our ancestors discover the skeletons in the closets...
   You will. I... Stupid, stupid, horrid me. Telling too much.
   I've been keeping my hair short with the razors, but will need to redye it soon, the blonde is starting to show.
   My true colors.
   Blonde.
   Knock! Knock!
   I heard it... I stood up. Walked to the door. They found me! Did they found me? Stupid. Why would they knock? Trick me. Deep breath. Today has been better the voices have settled.
   "Hello, I noticed the light on, my Porsche has a flat tire, I was wondering if- Hey it's you." You? What did that mean? Them! Them! Danger, they hide, freak out, I what?
   "Me? Yes, I, I-"
   "Ms. Griffin, do you have a phone I could use to call a tow truck? My iPhone's dead."
   "I-I-" Ms. Griffin? Who was he? He seemed friendly, yet, bad? Bad. "Call me Sylvia, Mr-"
   "I insist, call me Linus."

   "Okay." I cautiously said. "Linus. Uh, I do apologize, I don't have a phone."
   "Alright, well thank you anyway, I suppose."
   "There's a convenience store close to here; maybe try there?" I suggested, as the voices screamed for me to run, run, run. Go, go, go! Bad, bad man. He seemed to know me, yet I had no recollection of him. Was it during a bad time? I tended not to remember the bad times, when the voices flared up. They concealed the things that were bad, that were stupid. They helped.
   "Okay, I'll attempt to. Hey, did you go to Whole Foods?"
   "Whole Foods?" Grocery store, stealing food- I met him when stealing food. The realization dawned at me as I glanced at him, feeling panicky. Had I given away the fact that I had no idea who he was? He was Linus... Last name was a lake. It didn't matter; he wasn't bad. Or he might be. He could be infiltrating the place. "No-o... I-I..." I knew that there were more cameras there; that I couldn't steal from them. "Couldn't find it."
   Stupid, stupid you. Couldn't find it? The voices lectured me on what a dumb response it was; surely he'd catch me, find me, realize I was lying and tell them. They'd find me, they'd hurt me... They would. I had to run, hide...
   "Ah, well I'm going grocery shopping next week, my parents are having Thanksgiving at their home and quite frankly, with their declining eyesight, I'm worried that they won't be able to drive. A bit overly cautious I suppose, but what can I say." He shrugged, a boyish grin on his face. "We could carpool; I can show you around town a bit." He glanced around the room, eying the emptiness. "Have the movers not shipped your things from..." He paused, waiting to here where I was from.
   "Phoenix!" I shouted, biting my lip. I sounded too enthusiastic; he'd be able to tell I was lying. Stupid. Dumb. Idiot.
   "Really? I have a friend from there; you probably don't know them, it's a big city, but hey, you might. Jordan Panders? She's a criminal defense lawyer."
   "I... I'm sorry, I don't."
   "Ah, well, worth a shot. I always wonderful how that bitch-" Bitch! Bitch? Did he hate woman? Hurt woman? Had he hurt her? Did he know them? Where they in the same league? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend; I... My ex-wife. I'm still a bit bitter about the divorce; the one year anniversary's coming up and all."
   "My apologies." Was that the right thing to say? My apologies? Did that sound too formal? He'll know. The voices say. He knows. Hide!
   "Eh. I suppose it just wasn't meant to be, but I try not to dwell on it. Soo..."
   "So... Convenience store!"
   "Oh, yeah. Well, thanks. Next week, Tuesday, maybe, I'll stop by, we'll go grocery shopping? Oh and if you need help with setting up furniture or anything, I'm pretty much free."
   "No!" Stupid. Good, keep him away. Hide. The voices urge me, coaxing me to run away now. SOunded too urgent. "I mean, you must be busy."
   "True." He said, dramatically sighing. "The boating and the country clubbing is just so tedious." The sarcasm was accompanied by an eye roll. "I'm what you call a trust fund yuppie minus the working professional part. I seriously need something to do."
   "Oh, well... Bye." I ushered him out of the cabin, my stomach in knots. Why had he offered to do those things? Was he luring me into a trap? Why, why, why? 

With Love,
   Sylvia Griffin

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