Dear Angela,

Welcome to my mind, if the mind of a madman is any place to enter. For that is what I am, so I've heard. However, considering the circumstances that we were put under, I cannot blame them for their assessment of the state of my mental abilities.

If you remember, I suppose it started 3010, months after the USSR reformed, now including China, under the direction and rule of Marco Verbitsky, the former dictator of Russia and now the dictator of the world.

I hope, my dear Angela, that you will never again have to feel the pain that the world government has, and still is infliction on their people. I know, my beautiful Angela, that when they took over and forced Marcoism1 upon us, that we would be parted forever, for that is the way of thing in societies such as there, but I never expected it to be so soon or so brutal.

When I heard them first knock on the door, after only two months of being watched and oppressed, I knew why they had come. For they had been, since the beginning, torturing then killing women in their homes in front of their husbands and children. Then they would imprison the husbands and brainwash or kill the children.

I feared for your safety and sanity, so I did not tell you these things. Instead, I kept you inside the house always, and when they came for you, I hid you. You were so brave, my precious Angels, hiding from something you new naught. I am proud of you. You hid, even though you did not know what I did. You did not know that Hein2 Verbitsky had created a law that stated: All women who have already conceived and given birth to a child are worthless and will be killed. He sent soldiers out with orders to torture these women along with their husbands, kill the wife, release the husband, and take the child or children.

After I hid you, I opened the door and stepped aside. The first enn3 through the door shot me with his photoelectric gun4 and I hit the ground.

The next thing I knew, we were hanging together in the kitchen, suspended from our wrists. Apparently, they had searched the house looking for you, for I know that you wouldn't give up without a fight, my lovely Angela. You, my love, know what happened next. They stretched us; they whipped us; they beat us; they raped you, all in front of our little Jessica, only four. Then they did the worst thing they could possibly do – they made me pull the trigger of the fatal shot. I know they were responsible, but I can't help remembering that it was my had that pulled the trigger; the gun was in my hand as the light slipped from your eyes. Then they took away your body, probably to be burned. They took Jessica. She struggled; she's probably dead by now. Our little girl is too good and smart to become a brainless robot, like so many other children.

They set me free and left. I was outraged, enraged, irate, and every other form of angry and mad, all piled up on top of each other. I now know the meaning of blind rage. I was so insane that I was no longer thinking or even capable of thought. I hunted your killers down, every last one of them, and killed them for killing you and Jessie. Then, they hunted me. I hid, but the hein knows all, I'm told. I was found by that boy, Seth, who used to life down the street – the one Jessie fancied, even though he was several years older that she. I could hardly recognize him. Everything about him was cold, hard, and lifeless: his face, his mouth, and especially, his eyes. He caught me and brought me in front of Hein Marco himself. They tortured me again. My old wounds were only half-healed, and though I hadn't noticed them in my madness, but that previous torture came back to me now as the wound reopened and the bruises throbbed again. That, my sweet Angela, is pain: old wounds and new hurts paining together. The most gruesome part of this was Marco. He was laughing. The whole time he was laughing, as if he enjoyed it. I knew then that I was going to die, but it didn't matter to me. I had already died, when you died; all that was left now was an empty shell.

So I leave this letter for you, my Angela, and for anyone else who come salong – to leave knowledge of the terrors of the government, for soon I will die. I can hear them coming, even now, to take me to my doom. I miss you, Angela, and will soon be with you.

Until we meet again,

Jeffrey

1Marcoism – a form of government where, Marco Verbitsky, the ruler, has complete control over everything that goes on

2Hein-king/god/ruler

3 Enn-guard

4 Photoelectric gun-a gun that shoots an electric pulse guided and aimed with a beam of colored light (usually red); can be set to shock, stun, or kill