I have woken up in a home, quaint and peaceful as it seems. It is unfamiliar, just like the women who stand above me, the man who calls the doctor, and the doctor himself. All but Laura are unfamiliar to me and seeing her is like releasing a breath I’ve been holding for too long. I’ve dreamt of her, and she is just as darling as she sits next to me and takes my hand, murmuring reassurances about things she has no understanding of, but she is kind – a heart of gold – so it is no surprise. She is good, but she is lonely and has always been. I think I can fix that; I know I can, I’m the only one who can. She is naïve, she knows nothing of me yet still desires to be around me. I learn that I am weak without her, and around her I feel like I can do anything. She makes me feel love, I think she will be the only one I love – at least until she can love no longer. I think she loves me as well, despite the fear she feels when she’s around me; I want to be the only person she ever loves. I fear her weariness of me will grow too overwhelming, particularly in moments when I become overcome with my love for her, or when I have told her of the ball I attended when I was young, or when I tell her that she will die for me.