I write you today with heavy heart. There’s no easy way to put this, so I’ll write it down directly. Little Jimmy drowned in the well. We do not know what he was doing there or how he fell in. We searched for him all night and found him the next day. I am so sorry.
We are, of course, all very sad. Times are hard, but we try to take care of each other and especially of little Lisa. The loss of her brother has been hard on her. Now she has no one to play with.
The Summer has been dry, and the harvest scarce, but we’ll manage. I’m a bit worried about my beloved Mary’s health, she lies in bed all day. We all pray she will get better soon.
Yours truly Gottleb.
I hope you are well. Thank you for your letter and your concern. I am sorry to tell you there’s more bad news. Mary died a couple of weeks ago after a long time of sickness. She suffered a lot, I hope she is better now where ever she is. The winter is hard, and we do not have much food left. The harvest failed, and the animals are slaughtered, they would have starved to death anyway. I and little Lisa are doing the best we can, but we are worried. We’ll probably find a way, maybe we will have to leave.
Yours truly Gottleb.
Margareth put the letter down on the table. She needed to go and see them.
She asked her employer for some days off, and she took the train across the country to the small village where the local church was. The farm was still far away, and it was cold. Snow covered the land.
She got a ride out to the farm, and got off. The postman would come by in a couple of days, and she could speak to him about getting back.
She paid and said goodbye, and walked into the house. There was no one there. Hopefully her brother and his daughter had gotten into town, although no one there had heard from them.
A smell came from upstairs. She looked in all the rooms. Nothing. A hatch in the ceiling lead up to the attic. She pulled it down, the ladder fell out. The stench was unbearable. She climbed up slowly.
Her brother was hanging by his neck in a rope attached to the ceiling fess. His face was dry, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. There was a letter on the table.
To whom it may concern.
These are my last words. The hunger has taken my mind. I’m no longer a child of God, I’ve become a monster. I do not deserve to live, so I’ve decided I will take my punishment in the after life. In the end she died for nothing, my dear little girl. At least she was delicious.
Good bye, cruel world. Good bye.