"Hello, King."
"Who . . . who's this?"
"It's your grandmother."
". . . but . . .you're dead . . ."
"In a way, yes. Now listen . . . are you still there?"
"I . . . I'm still here, Grandma . . . yes . . ."
"Come to the old house tonight. There're quite a few people there who'd love to see you . . ."
"Stop it! Bitch! It's starting all over again . . . ."
To whom it may concern.
I am scared to death. 9 years ago they finally let me out, and I
was just beginning to feel better. I am not Myself any longer.
I guess You could not even recognize My face if You saw Me now.
That phone call 2 hours ago has torn Me apart. It was Grandma.
She invited Me back to the old house. I do not want to go back,
but I must. Maybe You will understand My fear if I tell
You what happened during My childhood.
18 years ago I was living with My mother and
My sister Missy in Grandma's old house. I had
been told that Grandma was away on a long vacation,
and that she would soon return. She did.
I have later found out that she was actually being released
from that same asylum. "She's insane", they said, when she
kept on babbling about "THEM". I still cannot make up
My mind about who really did separate Grandpa's head
from his shoulders. You see, "THEY" were always so
nice to Me.
Anyway, time is short and I must leave for the old
house. So here is what happened 18 years ago. And
in case we never see each other again, at least You
will know why.
I bet we are going to have tea.
K.D. 3-12-87
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