April 9th, 1936

Charlotte, 

how has your new house been treating you? I do wish for you to send some sketches whenever your free to draw them. I miss your artwork, but nowhere near as much as I miss waking up to your voice at my bedside.

Thing shave felt colder since you left town and Father has been far more bitter than usual. The only time he has smiled was when I gave him a slice of Mama's special bread with blended butter. Despite this, it only seemed to last a mere moment. I didn't give myself time to think much of it, of course, since I would have been late for afternoon tea with an acquaintance of mine. Before you ask, yes I did bring my oxygen tank with me. And yes, I made sure to keep warm. So please, don't worry about me.

Anywho, I thought about you earlier today when I gazed over at our grand piano. I remember you would play such beautiful songs for me, and you'd sing with such a calm bird's voice. I miss listening to you sing.

I know it has only been two weeks at most, but It already feels like one thousand years. It doesn't help that the staff seldom comes to work now. Since your departure, many of the monster workers have quit- all except the ones we've had since Mama's death. That meaning Muffet, Grillby, Bunny, Doggo and the doctor. It's nice to know that some of them stay for me, but I know that if I left they would leave too.

Would that mean Father'd be all alone like I am now?

If so, then I won't be coming to join you the way we had always planned.

I'm sorry, Chara. But no matter the things he has done to upset us, I really can't bring myself to hate him. I've tried, but then I am reminded of the things he has done to keep me alive this long. He gave part of his soul to me, Chara...

 Perhaps that is the reason I can't seem to leave him. Besides, I don't wish loneliness upon any being, monster or human. You know this well and always have, better than anyone else.

Don't worry though, alright? I'll send you a letter every week. Then you needn't wonder what I've been up to. I hope that helps ease your troubles a bit. I know it helps me to know we can continue to communicate. Hopefully, it does you as much good as it does me.

With all the sentiment I've left to give,

Francine Diane King.

As I set my pen down, a long sigh escapes through the cracked skin of my lips, fogging up the glass of the bedroom window with ease. I look through it to see my father caraling Don G out of his shed once more, holding the basket I'd left in there with him from my last visit.

Part of me was saying I shouldn't step out, but then it was overpowered by the screaming of the rest of my mind. It was demanding that I intervene, that I step outside and see what would happen.

Then before I could set such plan into action, Muffet is escorting me to the bathroom, where there is a tub of warm water waiting for me.

I feel slightly guilty for not going outside.