Disclaimer: I don't claim Silent Hill. That's Konami's doing.

Do you ever think of me? I think of you often, James, too often.

I use to be so jealous, thinking of you. You got to live on. I think of you considering dating someone else, family and friends telling you it's time to get back on your feet. Their thoughtful words haunt me. I feel them consoling you; telling you that I'm in a better place.

Am I, you wonder?

I am. This place is so beautiful. This town holds everything poignant and glorious about life. The weather is unreal, ethereal even. The fog here is so light and wraps around every building and on top of the lake. But, just above the fog, the sun is brilliant. I feel it on my skin when I sit in my overstuffed armchair before the window in our special place. The light from the sun bends and sifts its way gently down, making the town look enshrouded in clouds, enshrouded in Heaven. The snow never falls here, but it's always on the ground. There is no night here, only crisp mornings and warm afternoons. As crazy as it sounds, I lay in the snow in that same simple, modest skirt you always teased me over. There is no such thing as freezing here; no such thing as burning. The buildings are clean and empty; the books throughout this town have no words in them.

I have certainly reached euphoria.

So why am I still somewhat empty? Why can't I just bask in my eternal resting-place? Because you're still out there, you still exist even without me. You must think me insane, to love Silent Hill.

But you don't understand this place, not like I do.

In the back of my mind and the bottom of my heart, I knew you never loved this place like I did. When we were here, you seemed so antsy; you never relaxed. I asked you to bring me back, I practically begged you. You never did because you felt out of place here. Didn't you? Was it the serenity that bothered you?

Was it the absolute absence on all those mindless sins you indulged in?

I knew, James, I always knew about those horrible things you did. I loved you though, and I always acertained myself that eventually your restless youth would die out, that someday you'd come to your senses. So, I stood by you and overlooked your transgressions.

You're going to pay.

I'm sorry, James. This is the only way. I'm going to bring you back here to me, to let you know how it felt. You have to know my heartbreak, the utter betrayal and relief I felt knowing the man I lived for took my life on my dying bed. Do not cry. I do not hate you. I felt such torment in life, but such fear of death. I was torn. I could not force myself to die and I had no ability left to live. So, you helped and hurt me. Part of me adores you all the more for what you did. But, part of me loathes you for living on without me.

And it makes me insane.

Do you hate me for that?

Do you hate me for envying what you got to keep?

I suppose I just don't care at this point. Near the end, our relationship became nothing but violent bouts of love and hate. I'm use to your hateful glare, the one you use to give me in my final stages when I truly became a disgusting monster.

Don't ever think I blamed you. Don't ever think I hated you. I have always loved you and I always will.

The butterflies are frantic, I'm sure you're somewhere in Silent Hill now. You got my letter, you followed my call. I wonder how long it will take now? Will your sins kill you? Will your memories?

I know you must view my description of Silent Hill with incredulity. But this town┘it's fascinating.

It's like a skeleton, waiting for memories and hearts to give fruition to its design, to give skin to its bones. With your sins and your wrongs, I can imagine what sort of Hell you've found in this town. The creatures that lurk after you, the heavy, hellish fog and the rusted grating. Sometimes I sense you running, crying out in surprise. I feel your quick, fearful breath; your rapid heartbeat feels like my own.

Now James, it seems I'm returning the help and hurt you bestowed upon me. I'm praying I can purify you by allowing you to suffer, I hope I'm helping you to atone for your sins.Oh, James. I hope you make it here.

But maybe you've already found your skin to your bones.