I am severely depressed.

Shadow has been missing for far too long and I've grown weary of waiting for my beloved. I don't know what to do anymore and I have yet to figure out how to get out of this blasted place!

If only my love would come for me.

I need Justine like I need air and light, both of which are snuffed out and dank in this dark, dismal place.

I can't keep living like this, even if it is Justine's wish. I loathe the dins and whines the estate's frame mutters during the cold winter, and the numbness in my limbs that will never work as well as they used to. I know spring has passed and summer has begun, but the dreadful heat that I would now welcome has not seared through the cold stone.

I moan at random from heartbreak and loneliness, and I begin to wonder if I did not have this parchment and ink would I truly just slip into insanity?

I call for Shadow from time to time, hoping he'll show so I can at least converse with another being. Any thing, even if he is otherworldly.

I am running out of ink, and this journal is the first I've written in my own blood since my incarceration inside the small cell.

I await your return, Justine. I will forever wait for you, for your warmth, and until then I shall continue to await Shadow.