Inked In Crimson #10 (She)

Dear Daniel,

If I said I saw pain yesterday evening, I’d be mistaken.

Every speck of summer light

Is overshadowed by the darkness

Wrought by storms within your eyes.

Today's meeting was unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. You had rarely visited my house before. I was not unaccustomed to visiting soldiers, and I let you in. It took only one glance at you before a terrible knot began to form in my stomach. All of a sudden, I realized precisely where I had lost the confidential note. I knew in that single glimpse that you had read it. My heart raced and in a moment of uninhibited panic, I wanted to tell you to leave, so that I might shut the door and disappear to some haven where you could never see me again.

I calmed myself. "Good morning, Daniel," I said, trying to seem genuinely happy to see you. "Have a seat. What brings you here?"

Your eyes were dark with the rain of doubt that had pounded on me all through the sleepless night. I feared the sloshing water may cascade over the rims when your eyes could no longer contain the storm. To think that my actions had done this to you- had I the experience of using it, I would have picked up your gun and taken a bullet to my brain.

You did not sit. I remember you saying my name with one part disappointment and one part anger- yes, anger- in your voice.

"Yes?"

"I don't ever want to doubt you, Miss Katherine, after all you've done for me, but-" You looked at me with a fixed gaze as you got straight to the point. "But yesterday night you forgot a note in my quarters which had a rather odd message on it." You were trying to hide the anger, but your voice was grave. Steady. Beautiful.

I prayed you would not be able to hear the nervous beating of my heart. How would I ever explain my actions? What was duty from my perspective was a serious offence from yours. That is the curious thing about the minds and lives of humans.

I knew that confessing would hurt me. I was prepared for punishment. As I looked at you, however, I caught a glimpse of how much my confession might hurt you, as well. I could not bring myself to give you the truth. "What note, Daniel?" I asked.

You explained how I had dropped a syringe in your quarters yesterday and how you had found a note inside.

"A note in a syringe?" I was presenting my best charade, although I was unsure of whether it was working on you. "Why would anyone do that? What did it say?"

"Something important," you said, dismissively. "Its contents are not significant right now, Katherine. You must tell me the truth- did you write any note and hide in in a syringe?"

You must tell me the truth. I couldn't. "I don't know what you are talking about," I insisted. "I was carrying a load of syringes some girl handed to me. They looked empty to me!"

You didn't seem very convinced, but I sensed you were backing down. Perhaps you wanted to talk about it no more than I did. One last time, you asked softly, "You know nothing about a note, Miss Katherine?"

"Nothing, Daniel."

Your lips eased into a ghost of a smile. I could not tell whether it was genuine. "Ah," you said. "It must have been a misunderstanding."

The storm had stopped, but the clouds were yet to clear. I changed the subject and we spoke awhile before you got up and said you must be going.

Now that you have left, I am in an even worse state than yesterday night. I challenge my own morals and actions. I am not the only person in risk! I shudder when I think of how many deaths I may have caused- then I push the doubt to a faraway corner of my mind. Getting rid of one doubt does little to quieten the chatter of my conscience and the voice of uncertainty. What if the information I supply the Confederacy costs me a greater price- you?

There is more than one battle here.

Mind against heart

Thought against emotion

Loyalty against love

I am torn to shreds

But the weapons of destruction are my own creations

Whatever I choose is betrayal.

Is it right to keep doing this? Is it correct to stop? I don't know. I cannot think straight. The whole day lies before me, yet I want to close my eyes without the worry of having to open them again.

The most frightening thing in the world is not punishment or death- it is a decision you know you cannot make.

Yours,

Katherine