# Letters In Walled City 87

---- FIRST LETTER ----

It's lonely and dark in here, in Walled City 87. Ever since they closed the roof, I can only see circle stars on the pitch black skies.

I live in a tiny apartment, it only has an old table with two chairs, a sofa which has been converted into a bed and a tiny kitchen. It's so cold inside, even though it's summer.

I happen to be largely the only one who doesn't do bed rotting. There is absolutely nothing to do in here, everything has either stopped or the humanoid plated robots do everything for us.

There is no future for me in the city, I really miss you on the other side, but I am trapped, you cannot enter the city. Remember that I like you very much and consider calling me when you have the time, ideally every day.

This letter is short, I am incapable of detailed emotional expression in writing. I know most teenagers in our school never got to this point where they even have to write about this, because they already have so many friends and I only have you right now.

The real population density here is actually extremely low, so much so that I might be the only one around here that is human, I cannot really rely on anyone here, or at least, I am trying to figure out how to socialize with those robots.

Those robots are similar to those games. For every perceived social mistake, they give a minus to the friendship bar. And it seems that I have made so many mistakes that I got more minuses than pluses, I am not a fun person to talk to. It only confirms my thought that I am actually an awkward person.

Please, I desperately miss you, I want you to reach out, get a reply somewhere. Life is getting unbearable here.

---- SECOND LETTER ----

It's been three days without a reply, I am not sure if the letter even reaches you or the bots are simply incapable of flying towards you.

A young person has arrived, they have no particular gender or anything like that, but they have pink hair, polished freckles and a androgynous voice. They have been nice, or so at least it was at first, because the truth is, to become friends with anyone in the city which is not even human, you have to respect some very strict standards which I don't know.

How to be an interesting person at first? I don't know, maybe the city has destroyed my sense of self-worth the entire time, I have to understand that I don't have to be like anyone else.

Maybe I'll wait two more days for a reply.

---- THIRD LETTER ----

I can't play the social game anymore. It has destroyed me, I feel too overwhelmed. I need to be alone, but at the same time, I don't want to feel lonely. Maybe am I too mature for my years to even talk like all the others? I don't know, maybe I'm not, this is just a variation.

Maybe what matters after all is the need for material security, I should really be grateful for my apartment and having something to eat or drink. If a normal government is responsible only for ensuring material security and ensuring that everyone has the right to a dignified life, then so be it, my social needs don't matter, only the economics and social norms do.

I can no longer wait, now I think I only write for myself in the hopes that I'll get reached out. Goodbye, have a good life.

---- FOURTH LETTER ----

The Ombudsman opened inquiry into ILVA steelworks. That was years ago, it was one of the last news that I got, because today I am completely disconnected from the real world, I have internet, but it's so slow that there is no longer anything to read or to learn.

Now I am definitely lonely and unable to do even the most basic things, I am only surviving in the city. I consciously know that I shouldn't be dying here, that I should be hoping that the city will one day open.

You cannot replace negative thoughts, at least not in my way of thinking, they are perfectly justified here. Yet, the insurance company here only considers cognitive restructuring to be valid therapy, and nothing else.

I will not be considering therapy anytime soon, even though online advice and professional websites always say that.

---- FIFTH LETTER ----

I got a cake and then goodbye. It was my anniversary a few days earlier. Honestly, I don't even care, as the cake, according to itself, has everything you need to survive in the short time, just like standard ration packs dispensed across the city.

There is nothing new. I am feeling desperate, but I have to be measured.

---- SIXTH LETTER ----

I'm too tired of writing anything in here, so I won't write anything.

---- SEVENTH LETTER ----

Goodbye, forever, or until you respond to all of this. I will still be alive, I promise.

---- EIGHT LETTER ----

...

---- FRIEND REPLY ----

I have read all your letters. I am deeply sorry for not replying sooner, I feel like I have failed you, and by my silence, I may have unintentionally added to your loneliness and despair. I want you to know that I care about you very much, and that your words did reach me, even if I was slow to respond.

I can only imagine how cold, dark, and isolated it must be with the roof closed and black sky. Your tiny apartment, the cold in summer, the robots replacing so much of life, it sounds so bleak, and I am sorry you have to endure it all. Even though I cannot be there, I am with you in spirit, thinking of you every day.

It pains me that the social games with those humanoid robots are so hard, and that your attempts to connect have been so discouraging. Please don't ever think you are awkward or unworthy of friendship. It is the city and those circumstances that have worn you down, not you.

Please hold on. Even if life seems unbearable now, even if the city cages you, you are not forgotten. You are human, alive, and much loved. I will try my best to be there more often, to answer your letters every day like you wish, to remind you that someone outside cares deeply.

I'm glad you had that anniversary cake, even if it felt meaningless. Small moments can sometimes hold more comfort than we expect.

I don't want you to say goodbye. This is not the end. We will find ways to keep talking and holding on.

---- PHONE CALL ----

FRIEND: Hey, I just wanted to check in and hear how you're holding up today.
WRITER: *starts to cry* I just want to cry, it's nothing good, it was a bad idea sheltering in here, I know there is nuclear winter after that extraordinary reactor or unexploded bomb explosion...
FRIEND: It's okay to cry. I want to listen.
WRITER: I don't know why they locked up the city with me inside while everyone is left to rot in their beds because there is essentially no hope.
FRIEND: I wish I could be there to help. But at the same time, I believe you'll find a way through this, even if it feels impossible now.
WRITER: I'll never find a way through this. I know this is learned helplessness, I am very aware of what's happening inside me, but I can do nothing to stop my heart from eating me alive.
FRIEND: That awareness shows how strong you really are, even if it doesn't feel like it. Let's take it one moment at a time.
WRITER: No, I can't take it one moment at a time, I'll always feel overwhelmed, I just need to release it all... *continues to cry*
FRIEND: Let it out. You don't have to hold it in.
WRITER: Alright, now we'll have to work through my self-worth all over again.
FRIEND: Yeah, but remember, I'll be with you at every step. We'll rebuild that self-worth together, no rush.
WRITER: I can't stop wondering when the gates will open again, or when I'll know why I actually ended up here.
FRIEND: I wish I had an answer for you. Until then, I'll also hope for the day the gates open too.