It's another night, almost as dark as the previous one was. I sit by my desk, writing. Just like I did last night. I look out through the rather badly patched up windows and see the fire growing stronger. Yeah, the one that I named the Flapjack fire. It really is quite a sight at night. I've been here.. what, a little over two months now. Still almost feels like I came here just a few days back. I've been constantly thinking if this was the right thing to do, to just leave everything behind like that. But I've actually enjoyed my time here. Been doing a lot of hiking during the day. A few times I've even ventured out during night, but always quickly returned back up to the tower. I've become more and more familiar with my surroundings, but at night.. well, it's obviously dark, and everything is so different. I couldn't really see where I was going. And when I take into consideration that I got lost when first coming here, in broad daylight, it seems like I would get lost even more easily in the dark. So I'll just leave all the hiking for the day. I sure can enjoy the scenery more that way. And it is quite beautiful around here. Breathtaking, really. I've lost count of how many times I've just stopped to take it all in. I kind of wish that Jules was here.

I stop writing and lean back in my chair for a little while. Slowly I move my gaze from the fire that right now looks very peaceful, and take a moment to look around the tower, which obviously is lit up. The light is quite dim, but it's more than enough for me. In the corner, next to my bed is Forrest Byrnes, leaning against the wall. That guy really freaked me out as a kid, and to be honest, he still does. There's just something about that weird, freaky grin of his. It's strange. I don't remember bringing him up here. I'm not that fond of him. But I must have just brought him up to the tower a few days back, quite possibly. I know that Delilah speaks with me from time to time, but this place might still be messing with my head. I'm still alone in this tower, after all. But I'm really starting to think that I should just throw Byrnes out for good, back to where he came from.

Then I move my gaze away from Byrnes and look at other things that I've put up. There, next to the window, partly behind my typewriter are a couple of framed photos. There's one of Julia and me, and one of Julia alone. I remember taking that particular photo on one windy day. We were out on a walk. Jules is laughing and her hair is constantly covering half of her face because of the wind. We both loved that day, and I still think that it was one of our best. It was before things took a turn for worse with her. And even though I know that she still loves me, I know that part of that old Jules is gone.

And next to that photo is one of our dog. The old German shepherd, Mayhem. It was taken when he already had a few silver hairs in his fur, especially on his face and back. I remember Julia taking the photo. I can even see it. Julia was always better at taking photos than me. Her hand is steadier and she's got this really good eye for things like this. And she really did take that photo on a perfect time. Mayhem looks really happy in it. It almost looks like he is laughing, his long, pale pink tongue is sticking out of his mouth, his eyes are almost closed and his sharp ears are pointed up. It really is a good photo, and one of my absolute favorites. I really wish that they both were here. But they're not.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, staring at the photos, when I'm suddenly reminded that I'm not completely isolated in here. Delilah is trying to come though to me. So I'm pulled from my thoughts back to reality. I reach out my hand and pick up the walkie talkie.

"Hello, Henry",

I hear her say.

"Yeah, hi.."

I respond, sounding a little out of it.

"I see that your lights are on, so obviously you are awake. You.. sound a little off. Is everything okay?"

she asks, and I'm not sure what to say. Delilah is surprisingly good at reading me, so I'm almost sure that she already knows. She just wants to hear me say it. And when I'm not saying anything, she tries again.

"Henry? Hello? Are you still there?"

she asks sounding almost demanding but still slightly worried.

"Yeah.. I'm here",

I say in hopes of getting her off my back. But she's not going to let me get away.

"Oh, what a relief. I thought you had passed out on me",

she says. I can hear the bubbling lightness in her voice. She's obviously joking.

"So.. what's on your mind?"

I hear Delilah ask. I shrug even though she can't see it.

"You know, I'm just.. thinking about stuff",

I finally give her the answer and take the photo of Mayhem into my hand.

"Oh.. that sounds ominous. You're not writing?"

she asks. She knows me so well.

"I was only a little while ago",

I truthfully tell her and take a quick look at my typewriter and the paper which only has a few sentences in it. Definitely not the best I've ever done.

"That.. sounds quite bad. So, what's the matter?"

Delilah, my boss, and an occasional shrink asks.

"I was just thinking about.. things. You know, all the things back home."

"Julia?"

she asks. She sees right through me once more.

"Yes. I keep wondering if I made the right choice by coming here."

I can hear Delilah sigh.

"Come on, Henry.. we've talked about this before",

she says and I know it.

"Sometimes you just need some time for yourself. You just need to get away from the old circles. And.. Henry, listen to me."

"I'm listening",

I say and put the photo back onto the table right next to the others.

"You did the right thing. And Julia.. you said that she's with her parents?"

"Yeah."

"They're taking care of her for sure. Stop putting so much weight on your shoulders",

Delilah swears and I know she's right. But despite that I think that I don't feel like talking anymore right now. So I take deep breath and then say:

"Listen.. it's kind of late and.. I think I should try to get some sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow, right?"

I hear Delilah sigh. She's noticed my change of subject but doesn't say anything about it. I'm glad about it.

"Okay.. We'll talk when you wake up. Good night, Henry."

"Night."