"Dear, Alfred. You haven't forgotten about me yet, have you? Sorry! I know its been over two months-"

"Three months actually," Alfred replied to the writing.

"since I've been gone. There's more work than I expected and it just keeps piling up. I apologize for not leaving you enough food. I know how much you love my cooking and you're probably misearable without my special scones."

"Yeah, misearable," answered Alfred sarcastically.

"I hope you've made new friends. I don't want you being alone too often. If you're wondering how this letter got inside your house, it's simple. I sent another letter to Matthew."

"Who?"

"Your brother."

"..."

"The one that lives in Canada."

"Oh! That Matthew."

"In his letter I asked him to bring you this letter. I expected you wouldn't be home so I told him to just lodge it in the door."

"What are you?" asked Alfred. "A mind reader?"

"No. I'm not a mind reader."

"But you just-"

"As I was saying. I was in too much of a hurry when I first left and forgot something important. In the drawer next to my bed is a small box. Would you mind sending it along with your reply? I'd really appreciate it. I'm not sure exactly when I get back but I hope it's soon. I'm beginning to miss my cute, little Alfred."

"S-stop saying weird things." A line of red crept across Alfred's face.

"Haha. Anyways, I'm sorry about not being able to come home yet. I've been staying extra hours trying to finish quicker. I'll make it up to you when I do get back. Wait for me until then. Sincerely, Arthur."

Alfred grabbed a stack of paper and handful of pens and sat at his desk.

"Since I've got nothing to do with my (unwanted) time off, I might as well get started on this letter."

Alfred's pen began to write. "Dear, Arthur. I...no...You..no...When are...no...How's the weather? No, no. That's just stupid. Damn." Alfred crumbled up the paper and threw it against the wall.

'What's wrong with me?" he thought. 'I've been waiting exactly one hundred days for ANY news on Arthur and when I finally receive a letter from him I can't think of a single good thing to write.'

Alfred laid his head on the desk with a heavy sigh.

"Maybe tomorrow." Alfred closed his eyes and began to dream.

A cold gust of wind hit Alfred as he made his way out the door. The sky was dark as ash and the trees swayed violently. The usually green and cheerful scenery had an ominous feel to it. From a nearby bush flew out Alfred's rabbit.

"Mr. Bunny," called out Alfred. "Where are you going?" He ran after the small mammal who seemed to run quicker than usual. After several minutes, Alfred caught up to the rabbit but had ended up in unknown territory cloaked in a dense mist.

"Where am I?" Alfred looked around blindly. He had roamed through the forest where he lived many times and never found a place like this. He walked, slowly investigating the newly discovered land.

"I wonder if anyone lives here-" Alfred was cut off as he tripped on a thick object. Mr. Bunny fell out of his arms and ran down a rocky path.

Wait. What's wrong? Why do you keep running away from me?"

Alfred stood up to find what he had tripped on. He could barely make out the figure. Alfred picked up the object and felt that it was rathar heavy and drenched in a cold liquid. He pulled on it but it seemed to be attached to something.

"A tree?" asked Alfred. "Could this be its branch?"

The mist began to clear and Alfred was able to see the object in his hands. The liquid was red and covered the entire object. The object was pale and frozen to touch. It wore a red and blue coat but due to the liquid, the blue was hardly noticible. It's black pants had mud blots and tears that no doubt showed that it had been through a lot. Its eyes were wide with fear and regret. The object was not an object, but a man. A lifeless man. A man with a missing arm and a countless number of wounds.

Once Alfred realized what he held in his hand he backed away only to trip on another large object. But this object was also a man. A man who had also lost his life. He looked just like the other man except with the colors switched and the opposite arm missing. It was a reflection of misfortune.

Alfred walked backwards but fell upon another courpse. The bodies all laid on top of decrepit ruins. He stood up and ran in a vain attempt to get away from them but everywhere he went, death had already been. They had him surrounded. Alfred kept running until something grabbed his leg, causing him to crash straight into the hard, blood-stained ground. He wiggled his leg but couldn't get it free. He looked behind him and saw the obstacle that was limiting his movements. A cloth attached to a pole had somehow tangled around his leg. The cloth had a red and white striped pattern with a blue square on one corner. The blue section was decorated with 13 white stars arranged in a circle.

"How did-" Alfred's voice become raspy and quiet. His mouth was open but he could not speak. It was as if something had stolen his voice.

Alfred continued to try to untangle himself but no matter what he did the cloth was still tightly wound on him.

"I'm sorry," Alfred heard man say.

A figure's back appeared in front of Alfred. This figure was tall with messy blonde hair and several wounds on his arms and hands.

"I was foolish." The voice was faint but a behind it, a British accent could be heard.

'Arthur?' thought Alfred.

"I'm sorry, Alfred."

'It is you!'

"You were right. It was not my place to tell you what to do."

"A...a..." Alfred tried to call out but only a low whisper could be said.

"I just didn't want to lose you," the man continued. "You said you were fine but I could feel my grasp on you loosening. I know your heart aches with hatred towards me."

'No! I could never hate you!' replied Alfred in his mind.

"I am no longer of use to you. I apologize for burdening you. I know when I am no longer wanted so with this I bid you farewell." The mist returned and the man advanced forward until he was entirely swallowed up by it. "Goodbye, Alfred."

The surroundings darked and became black, leaving only Alfred and the cloth.

'No!' he thought. 'You can't go. You just got back. You promised we'd be together. I don't want to be alone anymore. Arthur. Arthur. ARTHUR!'

Alfred's screams were heard by only himself. He looked at the cloth that was still entangled around him.

"It's all your fault," Alfred blamed, forcing his voice out. "You're the reason Arthur left! I hate you! Get off me!" No matter how much Alfred struggled the cloth would not set him free. Instead it extended all around Alfred and gripped tighter, practically chocking him.

"Stop! Please!" Alfred took a small breath before losing consciousness.

"Alfred! Alfred! Wake up, please!"

Alfred opened his eyes to see Matthew hovering over him, terrified.

"You're finally awake," whispered Matthew with a calmer expression. "I've been trying to wake you up for over an hour now. You were having a nightmare and gasping for air."

Alfred sat up trying to remember where he was. A paper was stuck to the side of his face. That's right. He was a writing a letter to Arthur and he must've fallen asleep. Then...was what just happened just a dream. But it felt so real.

"You have no idea how much of a fright you gave me." Matthew lectured the boy but Alfred was still lost in thought trying to decipher what the dream meant and why it gave him such a bad feeling.