Inked In Crimson #8 (She)

Dear Daniel,

Every moment is an explosion of color. Deep, cloudy shades of blue, soft pink of warm breath, flashes of violent orange. I am a landslide of emotions, each battling to bury the others. What my mind constantly brings forth is the image of you biting your lip, fighting back pain, while an ugly smear of the darkest red spread across lightly tanned skin the color of a fresh loaf of bread. The muscular arm my touch has grown so acquainted with lay tenderly on a white sheet, staining it crimson. In spite of the evident pain, you nearly never ceased to smile as I spoke to you.

The moment I heard you were shot, I rushed to your side. Miss Collins seemed glad to have one less injured man to worry about. Even as I dressed the wound, I regretted not being able to provide you with better care or even cleaner bandages. The pain of injury may be momentary to you, but the risk of disease is tremendous. Many have been lost to illness. Pain shoots sharply through me if I so much as think of losing you.

While I may acknowledge that I am worrying for no good reason, separation from you is always a fear haunting me. Today it has been reinforced.

I have lost something of importance and as long as I do not know of its whereabouts, I am in danger. Control seems to be slipping away from me and my hands shake with sudden spasms of uncertainty. If the note I have misplaced ends up in Union hands, life as I know it shall be mine no longer.

The punishment for espionage is imprisonment or deportation.

I always knew I had to tread carefully. Every action and every word in these few months has been a risk. Yet I never felt as I do today- dreading tomorrow's dawn. Doubts crash onto me like blinding rain. I cannot see three feet ahead of me, and I cannot make it stop. I only hear the pounding. The summer air turns chillingly cold. Yet I try to dissuade myself from imagining what may happen. I shall take on anything for the people to whom I pledge loyalty.

When you stand in the middle of a war zone, you have to be prepared for bullets.

Yours,

Katherine