Little tedious apprehensions

Dear Mother and Father,

Things are going surprisingly well. I don't know how that can be. I have been trying to stuff the raccoon I brought home back to the tavern, and yesterday I attempted to use the formaldehyde. I spilled a few drops on the floor and could not clean them out no matter how hard I tried. I was so sure Miss Dreamscape was going to kill me, but she didn't speak a word about it. Does this mean she'll be more upset about it later for not letting her know? I know I should get out of here while I'm still physically able to, but some strange emotional pull is keeping me from doing so. It isn't even that my dreams in Steelhead are so fanciful as to be a great relief from the more realistic nightmares. It isn't even one hundred percent related to her, though it has quite an impact on anything that is related to her. The thing is, the Steamlands people like me, or in any case act as if they do. I want to follow them around pretending everything is okay until I can't pretend anymore. It's so irrational, yet I'm so weak I can't help myself. Surely there isn't much more time before all this pretending I deserve their courtesy takes its toll. What happens then? Thus, I flee from thoughts of this future that so frightens me. Now if I could start deserving their courtesy, that, I suppose, would solve everything. If only, if only!

With love,
Shaqad