Dear…
I’m not sure whom to address this letter. There has been a chain of events over the last couple of days that has completely flipped this journey upside down. I feel responsible for not being able to save Hannah. There wasn’t really anything I could do, but as a healer in training, it hurt to see the pain in Zayer’s eyes and hear the pleading in his voice, knowing it was too late. I guess it’s all a part of the job, but it’s defiantly the worst part.
I also can’t help but feel guilty for not telling Zelina the truth from the start. Now, she won’t talk to me or barely give me a second glance, or even a first one, for that matter. It will take a while to get used to the hooves and the small horns sticking out of my head, but it’s a growing process. The others don’t seem to have a problem with my… transformation. But then again, they weren’t trying to build a romantic relationship with me. Although Peter and I got pretty close while we were handcuffed together, that was a pretty weird situation.
I’m writing just to jot down the things that are bothering me on parchment. I was starting to rely on Blair as an ear that listens and tells me when I’m being an arse, but now she’s gone, and the house is split on whether to find her or not.
My job was to protect Zelina and Zayer, and so far, I’ve done a crap job of that. Now that Blair’s gone, I’m not sure what my purpose is any more or if I really bring anything to this group other than an inside joke.
Well, if anyone finds this letter, know that The Lost were here. I think that’s a good name for us at this point in the journey.
Sincerely,
Ethan (AKA, Goat Boy)
