[Perhaps it is unwise, but Ion can't help himself from attempting to send a reply.]
You weren't okay, were you? I'm so sorry for all that you must have gone through. You as well as anyone else who had to suffer. I wish there was something I could do to help, but I don't know what you're asking for or what you need.
[And again at the bottom of the note, as if it was added as an afterthought.]
[Ion receives a piece of paper that seems to have been dipped entirely in fresh, dripping blood. There is a handprint pressed into the top of it--it appears to be that of a child--and a message written as if the child who made the handprint was fingerpainting below.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
note, delivered the morning of June 1st
if they didn't take your eyelids away
[The poem is written in blood.]
no subject
You weren't okay, were you?
I'm so sorry for all that you must have gone through.
You as well as anyone else who had to suffer.
I wish there was something I could do to help, but I don't know what you're asking for or what you need.
[And again at the bottom of the note, as if it was added as an afterthought.]
I'm sorry.
no subject
I FEEL YOU
[He will receive no further response.]