Author: Lukas (yes, that Lukas) | Date: None. This was found carved into a cellar wall.
I think I’m the last one. They won’t tell me where the others went. The sky flickers sometimes. I think it’s fake.
She visits when I’m almost asleep. Her veil smells like smoke. She tries to hold me, but her hands pass through.
She cries and says she loves me. That she made me.
I asked what that meant. She said, “You were the only thing I remembered correctly.”
Today, I found a photo of myself—older. I was holding her hand. But I was made to stay a child.