Work Text:
Everything has gone wrong.
I had planned so carefully, and yet they did not see the truth.
The postman, how will he ever find peace if his last moments were spent in such agony? I respect his determination and courage to find his own path, but I cannot help but be unnerved.
When I first learned of Mr. Grantz's fate, I will admit I lost my composure. My work was at risk. I attempted to deliver Ms. Lester to rest peacefully, but she was unexpectedly resistant. She became physically violent, and there was a certain level of anger and fear in her eyes that I could not comprehend. Before she could be subdued, Mr. Gupta came to her aid, instructing her to run. Distracted and rather dazed by their reactions to my simple offer of a peaceful ending, I failed to notice Ms. Lester disappear.
Although it was a difficult task, Mr. Gupta is at rest now. Unfortunately, I am rather heavily injured and am left with no idea of where Ms. Lester has gone. I may have done more harm to her than I would have liked, so I am unsure how she will fare on her own. It pains me to wonder how long she may suffer, be it from wounds or the tribulations of living.
I still fail to comprehend what may have elicited such opposition from these two damaged souls. What would compel them to stay in a world that has brought them so much pain? Is there something I am missing?
I find myself deeply unsatisfied and disturbed with the others' fates. Even Mr. Gupta, who I attempted to put to rest as best as I could, leaves a foul, lingering discomfort in my mind.
Yet, even after my failure to soothe Ms. Lester and Mr. Gupta, I remain most distraught over Mr. Grantz. His dedication to his craft and the sanctity of the written word drove him to endure a near-definite death by fire. He found such joy in life through the understanding of letters.
I almost find it cruel to know that experience has forever been taken from him, and yet I still long for the privilege of giving him a more dignified end. This conflict is relentless in its erosion of my ideals. I must do something.
Perhaps there is still hope for Mr. Grantz. I know now I will never find satisfaction in death if I do not at least attempt to bring him the peace he deserves. All I know is that he went back into the flames, and I crave nothing more than the certainty of witnessing his fate. It is not impossible that he is still in pain.
I cannot rid myself of the fear that if my mother is watching me, she is weeping.