[this is a letter from Allen with no address given nor any formality to it. It doesn't have who it was originally meant for but whoever that was never received it....]

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I had that dream again.
November 23, 1692.
Salem witch trials.

It had just turned dark.

I can still feel the heat of the flames.
Still hear my own screams echo around me.

See the accusation and fear on their faces when I never became ash.

They didn't know.

They didn't know a Nation can't be killed by human hands.

I healed near as fast as I burned.

They just threw more logs on the fire...

I can't help that my eyes are red...

The rejection hurt worse than the fire.

It didn't leave a visible scar, not like the burning of the White House (I still have that), but there's an emptiness in me and I don't know if it can be filled...

I still have the nightmares...

It only stopped when the rain came.