I won’t tell you everything. No, I won’t tell you anything. You must be with them, otherwise why has she suggested that I write to you? That’s because they’ve got to you, but they won’t get to me! I will not tell them anything either, even if they keep giving me these medicine, though I’m sure they’re not medicines, I have seen medicines before and they don’t look like these.
If writing this letter is not proof that my sanity has left me, nothing is. The likelihood of you finding this this piece of paper is next to nothing, but then, the likelihood of me ending up where I am is meant to be next to nothing too.
I shouldn’t be here. Neither should you.