Dopass.com

My dearest Daughter,

It has been two weeks since I last wrote. I write this as a confession, but I suspect you know already. My heart aches at the thought of you. The scientists have now forbidden me to even speak of you. Their guards now bar me from the clinic structure. I am inconsolable.

At night, I try to imagine you in my arms as I sing to you, but only broken sobs escape my lips. It is too hollow an image, I cannot sustain it. What little sleep I get is filled with fevered dreams of what they must be doing to you. They feel so real, but I have no shape or form in these dreams and so I am powerless to aid you. Still, I have in my mind an image of you, now. I see cobalt blue eyes, almost gemlike in your glowing infant face. In my mind you are untouched by the disease, I wonder if that is true. Know that I love you no matter the color of your skin or the cast of your eyes. I think that you are untouched in my mind's eye because it is easier for me to imagine that you could some day get free of the scientists and slip into a normal life, perhaps in some small town.

If I smile, it is with regret, for I doubt you can escape their grasp. The scientists have taken an interest in you; that the guards would treat me worse than they already treat the others is a sign that I have been singled out and why would I be singled out except for my desire to see you?

The kindly one I mentioned in my last letter, Jared, has taken to spending time in my presence. I can't say that we are friends, for I seldom speak, instead quietly weeping like the statues of the Madonna in my home town. None-the-less, he has stayed by my side for most of the day, every day. Of late he has been asking questions about Alicia and about you.

I think I might answer him tomorrow, if he returns. For some reason, I trust this man. He has said several times that he has friends he believes I should meet. I wonder if he means to help me reunite with you, my Daughter. I could use the help, for I fear I will fail in my quest to find you, if I go alone. The forces that stand in my way are far too powerful, their influence too far reaching, for me to believe otherwise. After all, your father is naught but a prisoner trapped in a cage. I have not been the famed engineer that I was for some time, now.

I miss you, my child.

Love always,

Michael Mendoza, your Father.