𝙲𝙰𝙺𝙴: 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘 (𝙰 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙻𝙶𝙱𝚃 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕) 🍰

⑲ 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙳

~~~

Charlie

It was 7 AM. I woke up in my room. 

The daylight was low and gray. The room was a little darker than usual. I sat up from my bed, yawning and stretching my limbs.

I examined my surroundings, staring at all the picture frames and printed photos I had taken during high school, on the shelf to the left of my room. In front of me, stood my desk, with a computer, a few notebooks and toy figurines, and my trusty DSLR camera sitting atop of it. I used that camera for almost everything. I pulled the warm blankets off of me and sat up from the elevated bed frame, making my way towards the shelf.

I looked at all the photos I had taken. Memories upon memories displayed on rolls of film, painted in velvety ink and shiny lamination.

I adore photography. And film. They'll be my majors if I make it into college. I would love to make film and photography my official career if I really do graduate and get a degree in filmmaking. Maybe one day I'll direct a movie, who knows? I just hope I make it into the filmmaking business someday.

I picked up a polaroid sitting against a picture frame of me and my mother. The polaroid was a photo of me and Cassie in New York. We broke up a few months ago, prior to her move out of town. 

I was devastated, don't get me wrong. I loved Cassie. I still love her. But, it just didn't work out. 

Maybe, one day, we'll get back together. 

Or maybe... I'll meet someone new?

It doesn't matter, I graduate high school next week. I don't have time to focus on love and romance at the moment.

After showering, brushing my teeth, and getting ready for the day, I grabbed my backpack and shoved all of my textbooks and notepads inside, zipping it closed. I dressed in my mandatory school uniform, adorning my navy blue blazer and pulling a tie around my neck. I could never learn how to wear a tie properly. I always had to search up videos on the internet to help tie it correctly.

I would ask my father, but, I don't think he'd care. He'd probably just berate me for not being mature enough to do it on my own.

I tied my shoes and headed for the kitchen. I grabbed a granola bar in the cupboard for breakfast since my father never cooked and made my way through the dining room, towards the front door.

That was when I noticed the mail, sprawled out on the ground, lying before the front doors. They had been delivered through the letterbox in our door. 

I quickly looked around for my father. When I was sure the coast was clear, I swiftly ducked down and scraped the mail together, skimming through each item, one by one. I searched for the envelope that would have the signature logo of the school I had applied to.

A letter from my dad's business. Skip.

A letter from the bank. Skip.

A flat package containing paperwork from my dad's associates. Skip.

A red envelope with no sender name or return address listed in the top left corner. Only our address was printed in the middle.

It struck me as odd, but I've seen a few of these turn up in the mail for the past few years. 

I couldn't care less, though. Skip.

That was when my heart dropped.