His Own

May 24, 1857

The screams of the people can be heard all around me. The ringing in my ear keeps going, like a judge's hammer sentencing me to execution.

Death will be extremely busy this year.

The earth shakes like it's trembling with fear, the ground itself seems to be choking because the amount of blood spilt.

Bodies pile up like mushrooms appear after the rain.

Yet, my dearest, my mind is with you always. You are the only reason I'm able to survive this long.

I miss you terribly and would give anything to see your face again.

Just the thought that you'll be able to live a more comfortable life if we win keeps me going.

Maybe one day, I'll be in your arms again and we can go boating in the lake beside your house. Wouldn't that be nice?

Maybe we'll have a child, or more, and we can play hide and seek with them then tell them our stories, how we met and everything.

You'll make an excellent mother, dearest. I hope and pray I'll be there to see it. I can't wait.

Thinking of you always,

Love,

Titus.