June 15th, 2009

To: Mom and Dad

From: Your Son

Finally made it to India today. It was a long trip but we made it without any problems. We had a close call on the plane but I don't want to worry mom with it, because everyone came out fine. I know that you're probably worrying your head off mom, so let me just tell you that I am fine. Dad, calm mom down please...just kidding. :P

I had no idea India is so double sided. Darjeeling is full of the slums on one street, and then on the other it is bustling with people and food and such amazing sights! I stopped by a beggar and gave him a couple of rupees. I will tell you now that I will never do that again. By the time we got to the hotel half of all my money was gone.

I'd love to tell you more about Darjeeling but the day hasn't even started yet. We're all exhausted from the trip. All of us are ready to drop dead. Michael and I are bunking together for the night, and he's telling me to shut off the light. I'll mail this in the morning. I'm fighting for consciousness now. Gotta go. Night.

June 16th, 2009

Jesus Christ there is so much snow dear God help us in our time of sins

Holy Mary mother of God pray for our sinners now in

Michael is hurt BAD his legs are fucked up they don't bend the right way anymore can't feel lower body anymore

Were are we

June 16th, 2009

To: Mom and Dad

From: Your Son

Sorry to have missed yesterday's mail. Just so busy. Hard to even recollect my memory.

Since I am one of the new guys, the other missionaries told us to just follow them and learn how they interacted with the others. I was surprised to see that many of the inhabitants of Darjeeling were very accommodating. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I thought they were savage cannibals, I just didn't know they were on such a touchy-feely basis. They regard us as above them, I think. You know in the bible when the woman believed if she just touched Jesus she would be cured of all disease? It's kind of like that. It's kind of nice to be accepted so quickly into their ranks. At least, the people of the slums. The others who do better off are more distrusting. However, Katherine insists that we spread the word of God to everyone we meet, not just the poorer people.

I have to stop writing now; we've brought some medical assistance along with us. Vitamins for the malnourished, some food, bandages, the basics. It's a good thing we know basic first aid, or at least most of us. People are lining up just like that way people did in Jesus' time, to be healed. I feel like a good person.

Sorry, I'm getting carried away. Got to go now. Bye.

June 17th, 2009


are you here

Ow my head is a drum not Thinking straight

June 18th 2009

Katherine says I suffered severe head trauma. Don't know what that means. Basically I have a constantly crippling headache. Feels like I took a sledgehammer to the face. I keep hearing this strange ringing, but when I ask what that noise is no one seems to be able to hear it. Writing dulls the pain, takes my mind off it. So I write.

We are on a mountain. Don't know how a trip to India gets us on a mountain – a mountain full of snow, but that doesn't seem to matter write now. Right now. God, I need some painkillers.

Can't remember what happened. Everything is in jumbles and pieces. My teeth hurt. rattled. I was sitting next to Mike, and I was reading a book and then now I am here. I remember someone laughing. They found a couple pieces of glass in my shoulder so I was probably drinking something. Who gives you glass cups on a plane?

We took shelter in the remains of the plane. I hope they checked it out first, made sure there weren't any gas leaks or anything. I do know they scavenged for all the supplies – food, medicine, bandages, the basics really. As far as the eye can see there is snow. Can't believe this. What do we do now?

June 19th, 2009

7:12 AM

Michael isn't looking too good. We patched him up as best as we could but our knowledge of first aid isn't so great. He told us not to worry but I could see the pain in his eyes. Both legs are broken, one entirely shattered. He has no hopes of walking without assistance ever again. In this environment we might have to amputate his legs to prevent gangrene or frostbite, shit I can't think clearly.

Katherine says that of the 22 that came, 9 survived. The pilot was not one of them, so we do not know how to use the equipment we found. Just some gadgets and wires but we might have been able to create a makeshift radio or something. Michael was the real tech geek, but he isn't even conscious. Elizabeth is currently trying to make something out of it. I told Katherine we should just take our chances and wake Michael up by force. Otherwise we will die in less than a week. She refused. I don't like it here.

Of the 22 that came only 9 survived.

Please God let it be 10

June 19th, 2009

To: Mom and Dad

From: Your Son

How are you? I'm feeling great. I feel so alive, as clichéd as that sounds. We set up shop in a different neighbourhood and started our routine for the day. There was this boy that came up to me – about 8 years old, I think. Smelled bad, but we all did. It was his face, though. He was grinning like the happiest kid in the world. Can you believe that? He was grinning and he gave me this stick he found. It looked like he treasured it a lot. I think he gave it to me because I helped one of his relatives – cleaned an infected wound on his sister. She was standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders and smiling as well.

I just thought you might want to hear about this. I don't know. It seemed pretty surreal to me. Makes me wonder about where I come from how people are so much colder and, well, you know what I mean.

I'm so glad that Allison persuaded me into this. Wherever she goes, I go. That's our motto. We never leave each other's side, unless we absolutely have to. Remember when I went skydiving with her? Guess whose idea was that. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but we made love long ago, before you even suspected it. I know it sounds pretty strange telling you this, mom and dad, but I think I need to show you know how much I love this girl.

Since elementary I always told you how fun school was and how all my friends liked me. I'm surprised you believed all that garbage. As a matter of fact, I think mom knew I was lying long ago. As for dad, well, unfortunately you didn't even have a clue. I was a loser, dad, and I'm not afraid to tell you anymore. It was Allison who found me and lifted me up. It just shows how much we love each other. Dad, I'm looking at you right now. When I come back I hope you would have stopped your prejudice against her. F you haven't guessed it yet, it was Allison who told me I should write this to you. I guess even she can't get me to tell you face to face.

I think I've decided to propose to her when we get back. Nine years seem long enough to me. Even for your standards, dad. I hope you will be beside me on this. I'm so excited.

By the way, why haven't you replied? Come on, guys, send a letter already.


June 20th, 2009


I found Allison today. She is dead.

I was finally able to get up and move around, and I decided to explore the wreckage of our shelter. I was sorting through pieces of broken glass and the seats and then Katherine said I was too weak to do that but I said I'm not going to let you guys do all the work I want to help to and she pulled me and I pulled back and then we fell back and fell into her lap.

I could tell because I loved her. I turned around and she looked at me and she was dead. Her face

it was burned badly and most of her hair was gone but I could still see her beautiful green eyes. So I screamed and jumped up and I hear her crackle beneath me. Katherine was crying and I was so confused why are you crying and then I was crying and I started shouting and then yelling and then screaming asking her WHY ARE YOU CRYING WHY WHY ARE YOU CRYING and she tried to put her arms around me. No one but Allison tries to put her arms around me. I pushed her away and then I didn't know what I was doing. I tried to put my arms around her but she was stiff and cold. I tried to move her but I couldn't something was wrong! So I stayed there and Katherine still cried and everyone stood behind her silently, infuriatingly. I realized I was weeping and I was saying Allison Allison talk to me but all she did was stare with those beautiful green eyes Her lips weere pulled bac and frozen cold and dead dead like a fuCKING MUMMY


June 23th, 2:45 AM

I remember how she would always complain that I chewed with my mouth open and how I was such a cheapskate but she loved me all the same. I remember when I first saw her in grade eight and it was like BAM Romeo and Juliet. She was my purpose in life, and now she is gone because apparently God was tired of letting her live and decided to take her back. By crashing our plane that was meant do the will of his and his only. I guess he was bored and felt like killing off the lot of us in painful and terrifying methods.

They didn't move her away because they couldn't. A piece of pipe was impaled through her chest, pinning her to the chair and unable to escape as the flames crept on her. Now I could see why they tried to keep me away from the wreckage. I love and hate them.

God how that must have hurt. Not that I would have known. God.



She was always the brave one.

June 24th, 2009

7:00 AM

She was always the brave one. She wasn't afraid of anything. I was a loser in elementary and she was popular. I was a bully magnet and she fought them away from me. Most would have been embarrassed but wasn't. She was the first to earn her driver's license. She persuaded me to learn to drive months later. She even got me to go skydiving with her. Never again.

Over the years she coaxed me from my corner and into the spotlight where the real stuff was, how to paint, go waterskiing, my first kiss. She showed me the fun and the sadness and the pain and the WORLD. She showed me how to live and now she is not while I continue to. Unjustified bullshit. I bet she even tried to save the others while I fainted like the coward I am.

I am empty. There is nothing left of me because I gave everything I have to her and now she is gone and she took all of my things with her. I can't even feel the cold anymore. Am I getting frostbite? Am I tired? Am I hungry? Am I starving?

I don't know. I don't know! There is only one thing I know. And it is that she is dead and gone to heaven.

God is unfair, the holy ghost is unfair, life is unfair.

I want to follow Allison.


My Last Words

Things aren't looking too good. We are barely surviving. WE are almost out of food, and on this godforsaken mountain we can't find anything to replace it. Tried boiling leather from the seats but all that did was make us sick and waste our matches. As leader of this fucked up little journey, I sent Stephen down the mountain to see if he could find some help. He volunteered of course; I wouldn't force anyone to do that.

This happened two and a half days ago. There is no word yet. I am not surprised. I don't know what to do anymore. Our only hopes are to wake Michael from his coma to fix the radio but how in God's name can we do that?

I wonder what the world is saying about us right now. Probably people are in their warm living rooms, boys playing with their little toy cars and grandmothers knitting away at another sweater. They probably hear about us on the news, and say, 'Oh, what a shame for them.', or 'I hope they survive. When's dinner, mom?'

We are utterly fucked.

I've never said that before. Sounds freeing. Makes me feel strange. After all. It's just a word. What harm could a word do? The way I see it, without Michael we are dead. Fucking Dead. Stephen is by all means buried under several layers of snowfall by now. I lied to the survivors. Said he should be back soon. Saw their faces life with false hope. Felt terrible.

Of the nine people who survived, there are now six left. Three are injured/incapacitated.

Michael Sumners, Elizabeth Rembrose, Andrew Monaco, Lee Finach, Krista Flurs, and me. Katherine Pilt.

Michael is in a coma, Krista has a broken arm, a broken leg, a fractured rib and multiple burns all over her body. She used to be so pretty. Lee lost an eye.

Stephen Paqua is dead. Harold and Alexandra died in their sleep a day ago. Can't even remember their names. Not that there is any point. I won't even bother writing down the names of the lucky ones, the ones who died in the crash. It is highly doubtful anyone will ever find us or my notes. The search has probably been abandoned a week ago, at the least.

I'm worried about Andrew. He lies in his bed (if you can call it a bed) and stares into the sky all day. I hear him cry at night, and he of course has a right to. He and Allison were the perfect couple. But when I hear him talking to himself, and hitting the snow with ungloved hands, I wonder. Last night before I found Harold and Alexandra I found him sitting cross-legged in the black snow staring at over peaks, or whatever they are.

Allison. Horrible way to go. We tried moving her. We really did. But there was metal stuck in her and she was frozen solid to it and the chair. Such a lovely girl. We tried to stop Andrew from going in. I almost feel that he was more useful unconscious. We had one less mouth to feed then. He doesn't help anymore.

Elizabeth thinks she has something on that radio contraption we extracted from the plane. I'm not a computer person myself so I can't tell. Krista tries to help, but what can she do? But I appreciate her optimism all the same. Lee is the real worker here. He has an eye for the small things, despite him missing one. Me, I don't know what I do. But the others trust me, so I won't let them down. Without a doubt I know we will die here and I have accepted that, but for the others, I think I can lie to them just a bit longer.

I can't believe just a couple of days ago I was in my home, in my bed, my very warm bed with my children. I would kill just to see Jesse come running in and tuck his face into me and cry about monsters, or ask Heather and Seymour how school was. I hope the world is punished for giving up so quickly. I hope you all burn.

To my kids, I just want to say that Mommy loves you. Daddy does too, somewhere. Be safe, and keep your chins up. Never let the world push you down. Fight back if you have to. Fight back with all your strength, even if you know you will lose in the end. Fight back, because it is the right thing to do. Seymour, take care of Heather and Jesse. When I am gone, you will be the eldest of our family. Be safe. I love you.

June 29, 2009

To: Mom and Dad

From: Your son

Strange things happen all the time, and today wasn't an exception.

I had no idea being a missionary could be so dangerous. I almost got mugged! As in beaten up, and having all your money taken away from you. A group of young boys were walking past Michael and I as we were returning from the restrooms. Katherine told us to use the buddy system, and although we thought there was no need for it, I am grateful for her wisdom.

They approached us nonchalantly, and just as we were about to pass each other they whirled into action like some kid – sized Indian versions of the X – men. It was both entirely hilarious and extremely terrifying at the same time. They just swarmed us. Concealed knives were no longer hidden, glimmering under the hot sun. One had even managed to get his hands on a baseball bat. One of them – probably the oldest and therefore the leader, got a bit closer than the rest and started to yell at Michael and I in their language. We both of course had no idea what was going on – it happened all in the expanse of about 2 seconds. He held out his hand for money, presumably, but we were just too shocked to notice this gesture. So, of course, they started swinging their weapons.

Now before you start freaking out, mom, I just want to say that neither Michael nor I sustained any serious wounds, and we are continuing to do the work of God as we have the other days. Luckily for us, we were both fairly quick and Michael was quick to come to a solution. He made like he was reaching into his pocket for his wallet, and then...ran.

I know, I know. Sounds like a terrible plan, right? Well... it was. He didn't even warn me or anything. He just sprinted down the street like a cheetah and naturally, I had no other ideas, so I followed. We were laughing from relief and the pure insanity of the ordeal minutes later. I mean, seriously, who gets mugged by a bunch of eight year olds?

In all it was a pretty exciting day. I helped Allison with her duties and then together we walked the streets of Darjeeling – of course, much more cautiously – and drank in the sights.

Look, I'm trying to be patient and all, and I know both of you are getting up there in your days, so your memories aren't exactly great (just kidding), but I'm starting to get a bit impatient. Send me back a letter!

June 31st, 2009

12:09 PM

I feel quite warm now. Is it you, God? Have you decided to stop being such an asshole and let me see Allison again? Have you decided that I have been unjustly punished enough, and I can go to heaven now? Or is it Hell? Or wherever dead people go when they die. I don't care anymore. I don't even feel anymore. I can't feel my toes and I can't feel my face and my hands. I can feel my heart though. It is a hole.

I hope the others are rescued. I don't want to be. What's the point of only half of you being rescued? I'm a double packaged deal, sir. Cutting me in half just won't...cut it.

I know I'm being extremely unhelpful. I don't help anymore. But I aim to fix that. I will take myself from their hands. It will be my last good deed on this earth.

Tell me, up there. Do aliens exist? Because if they do, that means they have a God. Is that God you? Or is it another false belief that sentient life forms eventually conjure up, when all hope is lost and all they have to believe in is an old man in white robes sitting on a golden throne in a fucking green garden floating in the sky?

Tell me. Do aliens see you? Flying in their little UFO's, do they see you looking down through the clouds and chuckling gently as you watch the perils of mankind below, as they fight each other with sticks that shoot fire and bloody wounds and giant metal birds that drop eggs of death? Do they see the war, and the crime, the rape, the killing, the lying, the stealing, the FUCKING PLANE CRASH WITH PEOPLE STUCK ON A LITTLE SHITHOLE CLIFF ON A LITTLE FUCKING MOUNTAIN?

Because if they do, if they do, God, then I hope they deploy their little grey man death lasers and fire the shit out of their little saucers, drain their energy to the bare minimum and fry your creations out of existence. Another spectacular big bang to another spectacular failure.

Why did you give us free will? Why did you let us make our own choices? For that matter, where did the snake come from? You know, the one that told Eve to take a bite from that apple and doom her descendants an eternity later to this place you call earth? Why didn't you just play us like chess pieces on a motherfucking board and let us live in blissful ignorance?


June 31st, 2009

To: My parents

From: Your son

Now I am worried and pissed off. What's going on over there? Seriously, I'm the one getting beaten up by little kids and cleaning wounds and spreading God's word in a little town in India full of disease and poverty and sadness (and a little joy, I must admit) and I'm the one worried about your safety. Allison tells me not to worry, but I can't help it. Dad, if you are off on one of your week long fishing trips I swear I will hunt you down. And mom, come on. Stop scaring me. How about we consider this payback for me lying to you in elementary. Is that it? Are you angry that I lied about my childhood and about Allison and I? Come one, Please. Don't do this. I'm seriously freaking out over here. Come on. Don't do this.

July 2nd, 2009

So hungry now. Want to eat things. Meat. Food. My insides are holes too now. I want to bite something down and make the flesh burst and warmness to come out. I am a vampire. Fill my insides and fill that hole up and then I will go to Allison. How dare you try to stop me from finding her what gives you the right

Don't want no cold leather I want meat, I want a big soft drumstick steaming and hot. But it's so cold! I need it

Never thought I'd see the day when I would be throwing snowballs in summer. But this snowball is rolling down that mountainous hill, and it's picking up speed and its picking up power and soon, very soon it's going to roll down right on top of us and pick us up and the plane and we're going to roll and roll and roll, all the way home.

July 3rd, 2009

I write only now to keep my own sanity and hold the torch so others will follow. I will NOT die in disgrace. I will die accepting death calmly. Not like Andrew.

I think we might have to kill him. I think if we don't, he will kill us first. I saw him holding his stomach and rocking back and forth like a little child hiding from bullies the other day. I thought those things only happened in the movies, or Stephen King books.

I think we may have to kill him. He looks at Krista strangely all the time now and I doubt it's because she is attractive, at least not anymore. I think he looks at her because she is the weakest one, the most vulnerable. Oh God, what have we done?

Her injuries were too much, and we had to sedate her when the cutting began. I don't want to talk about the details. I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life.

Surprisingly there was not much blood. The infection or gangrene or frostbite - or maybe all three – it had gotten into her and destroyed her limbs from the inside. She has an arm left at least, but Jesus it was horrifying. I am grateful she wasn't conscious. But what good does this make? I thought we were doing the right thing but all we did was stave off her death. All we did was make another wound, and then the infection will set in again and we will cut off a bit more and then it will infect again and then we will cut a bit more off again and AGAIN! Like trying to fucking sneak away with cake one slice at a time.

I want to scream but if I do I know I will never stop. So I hold it in and stave it off for a bit longer.

You are the weakest link. Goodbye.

It worries me, and I will keep an eye on him but we are going to die soon if we don't find something to eat.

We don't have any food at all, not even scraps. We thought the leather strips were the last resort. It isn't.

I remember that team from Argentina, the ones who crash landed on a mountain just like us and survived only by eating their dead friends and family. They had such the will to live that their own aunts, their parents, their best friends, BFF's from fucking grade one told them 'I am going to die. You have a chance if you can get some food in you. When I die I will stop being human and become food.'

Live for me by killing me. Shitty logic.

We may have to do the same.

God, why did you do this? I tried not to put the blame on you but I don't know anymore. Is this some kind of test? What do you want me to do? I'm tired of lying to myself and the others. Give me a reason to keep fighting. I'm just too tired now. Help me see your light. Help me keep my sanity and help me deal with Andrew, please help me do it humanely. No violence. Just a pillow in the dark, maybe. Give me the courage to save the others.

Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come thy will be done unto earth as it is in

Oh, what's the use?

June 5th, 2009

12:00 AM


July 5th, 2009

2:34 AM

What did you do with the bodies? Did you kill them in their sleep like the coward you are? Where have you gone? What are you planning?

If you come back I will fucking end you.

Enjoy yourself, you cold blooded fucker. Eat and then die. I will not make a mistake this time. I will wake Michael and then he will fix the radio and then we will get help and leave this place on a copter with you below, with your bloody banquet. I hope Krista was worth it, you sick, sick man. Defenceless and she had ONE ARM LEFT. Lee? Blind Lee? How did you catch him by surprise? And Michael. Were you looking for him? See, I knew you were going to try something. I knew it. Weak children like you are so predictable. Whine, cry and then a feeble retaliation. I will never tell you where I put him.

And why didn't you take me? Because I was the healthiest? I was the leader? You were afraid, weren't you? Be afraid, you monster. Next time clean up after you eat. I'm not your maid.

Fuck you, Andrew. Why didn't you fight? Where was your spirit? Where was that bit of soul you had in you the first time I met you? How long ago did you stop being human? Was it the cold and the pain? Or was it Allison? You are a man of God. Or were. Never forget that.

You have condemned yourself to hell. I tried, and I failed. You know, I have one thing to thank you for. You gave me back my will and determination, something you never had.

I intend to live. See my family again. So fuck you and thank you. Go off and die now.

Lost Missionaries Return Home Kangchanjangha Passengers Miraculously Survive

Several weeks ago, a team of missionaries flew to Darjeeling, India to aid those in poverty. Their arrival was never announced. It appeared that their flight had abruptly ended a few kilometres shy of the peak of Kangchanjangha, a mountain bordering on Nepal and India. It was assumed that the passengers had crash-landed on the mountain, due to unknown reasons. However, a recount of the refueling was taken, and results prove that the crash was at the fault of inaccurate readings of the fuel that was supplied. The offending workers have been taken into custody.

A search for the lost missionaries was conducted, but abandoned after nine days. According to Penny Ganesh, lead investigator of the case, there was no hope after this amount of time. "An average human cannot survive without food and water after a week," she commented. "Sure, there's plenty of water - frozen water. Trying to warm that ice up to drink will kill you dead faster than not doing it. We gave them an extra two days but after that, it was done. We could do no more." Imagine her surprise when, exactly two and a half weeks after the crash, the lost missionaries of India arrived back home and in one piece!

Of the twenty two passengers that boarded the plane, only two survived, Katherine Pilt and Michael Sumners. Both had at least one serious injury, as well as several cases of frostbite. Still, it is a miracle that even they survived, and how. Katherine Pilt, leader of the missionary group, has refused to explain their escape from Kangchanjunga, save for one comment. "God," she said. "God, and a little bit of persuasion."

It is unclear on what Pilt means by this statement, and all three survivors are being tested for any physical and psychological damage, but it seems to many believers that this act was a message of God.

To: Our Son

From: Your loving parents

Hello love, it's great to hear from you again. Sorry to have kept you waiting; we only got your messages yesterday. But watch your mouth; like that to us again, and you are finding your own home and parents.

Apparently there was a malfunction in one of the machines that help the mail people sort out the letters and your letter was one of the unfortunate ones to have been delayed.

It's great to hear that the residents of Darjeeling are so open to you. Maybe they are fascinated by your skin, as it must be so blinding white to them! No, we're just pulling your leg. Remember that your work is now the work of God, and never forget that we are behind you all the way. Remember what your father told you about improvised medicine if you ever lose the medical kit if you ever run out of bandages.

Your mother wonders how a child could give you a stick and act as if it were worth a million dollars. Was it whittled, or were there carved markings on it? I hope you treasure it as much as he does. You are right about the differences between our world and theirs, though. We have to learn to accept the small things and never become big headed. When you come back maybe we can discuss this in fuller.

Hello again, love. It's mom. I knew all about you and Allison. How? Because she told me, of course. I am overjoyed to hear that you share her same feelings. I have only one thing to say. You are perfect for each other. Marry her. By the way, after I showed your letter to your father and he visibly melted after reading it. I hugged him then, because I think he will no longer be so cold to your future wife (wink wink) anymore.

As for the small scuffle of children you described, I found myself trying to hold back a laugh. Of course only you would be able to get into a situation as awkward as that. Hopefully you your bruises are gone by now. I am not worried though, because I am confident you will find other ways to avoid 'events' such as this again. After all, a missionary does not have the safest of jobs. Proclaiming the word of God to strong believers is bound to start an argument, at the least. Of course, I doubt the boys you met were religious, but all the same,, be more careful next time.

Oh, look at us, rambling on. You must be eager to get out and see the day by now, if it is daylight where you are. Remember, your parents love you.