Dear Mr. John Kramer,
Oh... My heart is brewing thick black coffee with bullets in my head again. I needna get outta this fuckin' empty house before the coffee brewed even thicker with blood, but where am i to go? No destination. Just anywhere, but far away from where i am now. So sick and tired of this fuckin' room, don't wanna fuckin' see or talk to anyone. If there's a gun beside me right now, i would like to put it into my mouth and pull the fuckin' trigger. Oh... Jigsaw... I'm so unappreciating of my life, ain't it? Come get me. Put me in one of your twisted puzzle. Maybe i'll finally learn to live again if i survived. Here's my fuckin' miserable life, take it and make it yours. Tough luck!
Hugo
