Dear Emily, I thought it best to write you another letter before I forget what I remember. I had fogotten many things for many years, but now memories are returning. I was sleeping in my bedroom back around let's say, maybe "2000" in the spring, when the door bell rang. I got clothed and there was a girl who was about 15 years old and a woman standing about ten feet behind her, on the front porch. "Yes" I said. The young girl answered and said "I was told that I could stay here". The girl had light brown hair with green eyes and seemed to be malnourished and was very pretty. The woman in the background seemed to be a jewish-hispanic librarian with little or no lips, with short black hair, narrow black framed glasses with a long red dress. I responded very gentlely and politely by saying "I'm sorry, but I do not know who you are." "I was told that my relatives live here and that I can stay here" she stated politely. "I would let you stay here but I do not own the house" I said. Now what I meant was that I have no say in any thing in our household. When I was growing up after my parents bought a house and got what they wanted, everything belonged to them. "This my refridgerator!" "This is my microwave!" "This my couch and I don't want you sitting on it!" "This is my food!" So if we became friends, you would not really be allowed in the house because I am not allowed to have friends and bring them in the house. I had a friend, for example, who was slow in his mind, and my father got angry at me for letting him in the house, because he could fall down the stairs and sue us! Can you see the mentality? So friends were always treated like garbage and there were fights over them - especially girlfriends. Now the woman in the background said nothing all that time. Again it also ran through my mind that the hookers might have been setting this thing up. What I did not know at the time was that my whole family was secretly missing. And this was not the first time that someone was trying to get in the door. For example, my missing older brother suddenly had a sexy girlfriend who immediately became pregnant and took over my household and a year later I became homeless. Her son now lives in my bedroom till this day. Whoever told you - Emily, that you can live at my house, knew that every one was missing. Also, they never told me that you were born, and that I was the father. Nor did they tell "you" that I was your Dad. All they cared about was "my" house and "my" inheritance, neither did they tell me that any one was missing, "Darling". Again the people around you were decieving you and Meg Tilly in the "red dress"-who again- must have told them her plans. I do not believe that your mom is evil or out hurt you or me. We were set up again by the same people. She may have been trying to break it to me in an indirect way that we are related. I did not know that that was your mom in the background. "I" am not even allowed to live in "my" own house. I fought for my life with the police as I was about to be blungeoned to death by them as they tried to take me out of their house. I had been calling the police for several years earlier stating that that was no longer my "mother" or" father" - like the "Doubles" at the "Rotundra", there were more than one mother and father. They would not listen to me on the phone and would hang up in mid sentence! I had called them several thousand times during my last years on "Vanderbilt Avenue" because of the hang ups and lack of response. People I did not even know were just walking right through the house and walking out the back door! I woke up one day and strange people were having a party in my (their) living room. I wrote "The Missing Bones" website in an attempt to explain these things. I do not know if you have ever read any of it, but I wish that you would. If you look up my name "John Moreno" on FaceBook, you will see a photo of your mom and a baby picture of me. There is a link for that website. What I am saying is, that they are "missing" and are "bones". Had I known the whole truth, then you would have been welcome. Thanks for ringing the door bell. I will write to you again soon! Love, John Moreno
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