Fox's shorts

Dear, whatever entities that happen to take shelter in this house my name is... well I suppose it doesn't matter anymore, nor does this letter I'm writing really have a point perhaps it's just a way to create a piece of mind. Now I know I'm not crazy nor are any of you (at least I would like to believe) I know that some of you are ponies with magical powers while some of you are more... unique, I have to inform you all that I am in your attic it seems like a nice enough place though, only one window from which I can see a lemon tree a bed that looks like it hasn't been use in years but despite it's age still feels comfortable with red wool covers and an old brown frame. There is a picture of a family on the far wall I can't really explain what kinds of creatures they are for every time I glance at it the figures change their shape like some sort of unorthodox claymation I best guess I could come up is stick people with black eye's. There's also a mini fridge I'm not sure how it get's it's power or replenishes itself there are no outlets in the attic. Now it's time for the real meat of this letter the point the reason I'm writing to you all as a collective it has come to my attention that I am stuck here I cannot escape this place to better explain my situation I say this my universe or perhaps the house itself in my universe seems to have created a connection between your world's and my world's attic (when I use the word world I mean universe) suffice to say due to the unstable nature of my situation if I attempt to leave the house I may escape to my reality, what stops me is the letters of the one's before me that have tried and horribly failed I will not describe the vile insanity I have read which I assume are their last words as the creature they used to be. Now I have tried to be rational but I have a horrible theory of the fate of those who risk it which I will state at the end of this letter, perhaps you check your attic and find that I am not there I implore you that this isn't a hoax it is as a matter of fact the consequence of our universes interacting with each other I am there and also not there I AM TRAPPED IN MY OWN PERSONAL ATTIC. This is my own way to communicate with you entities, hello, I have accepted that I cannot leave the house I hear creaks and screams and silent whispers throughout the house I realize it's you all of you so please I ask as a regular fox writer please keep the noise down at around 11pm I like most creatures need my rest. As for those of you that are interested in the fate of the other "occupants" well in most of the letters around the end of their transformation they notice that their bodies start to darken and take an unhealthy attraction to the picture of the family on the far side of the room.