Day 2 - Witches/Warlocks

Love Will Continue

Try to deny it and try to protest. But love won't let you go once you've been possessed. – Andrew Lloyd Webber, Love Never Dies.

April 12, 1668

My Dearest Vitya,

I don't know why I'm bothering to write you this letter. I don't know where you went or if you're ever coming back. I don't understand why you left me when I needed you the most. Even now, as I sit here cursing your name, I can't help but miss you terribly.

Was my confession of love so repulsive that you had to leave the country? Was I wrong to believe that you felt the same way about me? Was my head just tricking me to think that the longing I felt in my heart was echoed in your own?

My parents and sister got the sickness. I don't know why I was the only one who escaped its clutches. They all died the month after you left me.

Without you or my family I feel lost. Every morning I wake up and the pain of losing you and them weighs on my chest. Draining me of all my strength and breath.

I remember the day we met because, for the first time, I was able to breathe. Real deep breaths that filled my lungs with hope. Now, I feel as though I am suffocating.

I had dreamed that one day we would run the inn together. But without you or my family, I couldn't run the inn on my own. I was forced to sell. The pride and joy my parents worked so hard to create, gone the moment I signed on the dotted line.

I thought about ending it, but knowing you were alive out there somewhere made me unable to follow through. Even now, as I beg for peace, the angel of death ignores my prayers.

Since you left, the nightmares returned, more horrible than I ever remembered. I cannot recall the last time I slept through the night.

Somehow, the news of my family's passing reached Father's sister all the way in Salem. She arranged for a carriage to collect me and insisted I come live with her and her group of sisters.

Father never liked to speak of her, saying she worshiped an evil god like their mother before, but what other choice did I have?

My stay with the Coven has not been all unpleasant.

My aunt gives me medicine. She says it's to mend my broken heart, but I think it is my soul that is broken.

Something has always been wrong with me. As if I angered a god in another life and this one is my punishment.

My aunt thinks she can cure me, but I believe her efforts are for naught. She tells me to dance, to make music with my body. For a time it helps. But the moment my body stops moving, the weight of it all returns.

I wish I could dance forever.

Do you remember the night we danced beneath the moon? How the stars shone a little brighter? That was the first time I felt genuinely alive. I cherish that memory, now more than ever.

The other women my aunt lives with sometimes dance too. When they do, it's spellbinding. Around them, the grass looks a little greener, and the fires burn a little brighter.

They tell me that when they dance, they are able to connect with the Powers beyond. But when I dance, all I see is you and me. Well, I think it's me.

In some visions, I see myself with brown hair, others black as night. My body changes – sometimes I'm round from too much indulgence, others I'm fit like the farm hands that work the fields.

But you, Victor, always look the same. Your long silver hair tied back with a ribbon and your beautiful blue eyes swimming with mirth.

We are always dancing. Sometimes on a frozen lake, sometimes at a ball or banquet. Occasionally there's music. Rarer still, you sing to me in a language I do not understand.

My aunt says my visions are us from another life, but I don't think she's right. How is it possible for you to live on just as you are while I am the only one that changes?

In the visions, you look happy and so in love. Is it possible that we loved each other in another life? If so, what makes this one different?

The visions always end with us embracing, sharing a kiss. The moment our bodies connect, a brilliant blaze lights up the dream, and I come back to myself.

But you never let me hold you. For months I tried to touch you and you always brushed me off.

I envy the versions of me that got to seize you and love you. I'd die for the chance to feel your lips on mine. Just once.

If you feel nothing at all for me then there is no reason for me to exist. Is fate so cruel that it can allow me to love you so deeply, only for you to reject me?

I belong to you, body and soul. I feel as though a part of me is tied to you, and it always will be.

If there is a God, I pray he will end my suffering, for I cannot take my own life. Until I see your cold dead body, I feel there is still a chance for us. To kiss and embrace like the versions of us in my visions. So in love that the world around us burns.

Forever and eternally yours,

Yuuri