((If the video shows up first, play it and then switch to drawing, thank you and enjoy.))

April 6th, 1936

Current time; eight thirty at night

It's been a quiet three solid days since the new hire has been in his shed. Along with three solid days of agonizing interest that has been yanking at my strings since then. Since the night I was idiotic enough to approach the brute and let him nearly choke me to death.

Now and then, I'd think about it. If I weren't imagining Jacob or Charlotte, I'd wonder why he shed mercy to me. I never did anything for him, so perhaps he had no idea it was me until the lighting was more apparent to him? I do hope that is what happened, but I'm highly doubtful.

Besides Muffet being at my constant aid and observing every gesture from over my shoulder, she'd also remained surprisingly tranquilized these fast few days. More so than I'd anticipated. Today, she hasn't bothered me or came up to see me once. When I took note of this, it was already nearly noon, and on any typical schedule, she'd be up to wake me by seven. As odd as it may have been, I knew well that she and Grilby have been getting a little intimate as of recently, so I chose not to ask any questions.

I knew all too well that my father would be in his study, smoking and be going over his plans with the Doctor before she set up the preparations. Doctor Alphys is a lovely dinosaur woman with a broad set of circular, thin-framed glasses, and smooth yellow scales. She's smart, but very fidgety and stutters often. Still though, when she's passionate about something you can count on her to answer any question you have based on the matter.

So while everyone else was busy, I took a second trip out to the side of the house, this time I had my journal and pencil in hand, ready to execute plan B. A plan I just decided to name and create myself, considering I have no idea what on Earth I was thinking at the time of all this.

I carried my oxygen tank with me in my geranium gloved hands, having hooked myself up and breathing normally thanks to my red knitted scarf blocking the winds from hitting the tubes.

After a shaky breath of nervousness, I took a seat in the snow and knocked on the wooden exterior of the shed, notifying the skeleton inside that I was there.

At first, all I heard was silence. So I reached up and tried to open the door by turning its handle, only to find it was locked, and I didn't have a key to get in.

I asked in a quiet voice if he was still inside, he hesitantly growled and said yes.

I asked him if he could write, he said yes again, and I suggested we did that, so we could talk without being heard. He said yes again. Speaking seemed like speaking to a brick wall now because once I began sliding my paper and pencil through the divisions of wood, he started to instantly send his replies back on the pages in distinct handwriting.

Our first responses went something like this;

"Isn't it freezing out there?"

I wrote back with 

"Yes, it is."

"Then how come your there instead of in that nice cozy house?"

I had to think before answering.

"I had something to ask you."

"Oh? Well, spit it out."

"Why is it that you didn't finish me off then? Those few nights ago, I mean. Did you know it was me?"

"Yeah, I knew it was you. I just acted on instinct then went from there. I stopped because I didn't feel like being punished for murdering you."

....

"Thank you for your honesty. Good day."

That was the last I wrote to him before abruptly standing and marching off, having received the answer I needed and not wanting anything more to do with this man- That is until I read his final message on the bottom of the sheet.

"My name's Don."

Don.

Before I knew what came over me, I was outside the shed again, my back against it as I wrote back to him with a pink nose. It felt like we were children in school, bored beyond belief and passing notes to kill time. If I thought I'd seen someone, I would grab my oxygen tank and hurry out of sight until the coast would be clear, then I would make it back to the shed and find a new response to read. It made me smile somehow.

We didn't speak of anything personal such as where we were from or how old we were, we just talked, as though we already knew such things.

He told me that he was sorry for what he did, and I said I apologized for not stepping in the second time for him. He said he'd let it go already, but I didn't believe him. Why else would he have had the intent to kill me?

"Hurt me a million times with the truth, but don't comfort me with any lies," I said through chattering teeth, and never heard or saw his words be reproduced back to me that after that. So, I bid him a due and retreated to the warmth of the comforter my bed had to offer since Don had nothing to offer me instead. 

Sorry for forgetting to draw her air hose, guys. I had already inked it and colored before I'd finally remembered she was handicapped with it. Hope you enjoyed none the less. These drawings are just stepping stone for me to becoming an illustrator.

Much love ~Eko