Chapter I - A Letter With No Address

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A girl of fifteen years, (Y/n), anxiously taps the sole of her shoes upon the pavement, wearing an annoyed look. Her eyebrows twitch the longer she had to wait at the front of the library. She crosses her arms, unpleased by the fact that her own brother had failed to pick her up sooner. It was nighttime, and she all alone, with no supervision.

With very little patience, she calls her brother, holding her flip phone over her ear. To her own surprise, he actually picked up. "Where are you?"

"Huh?" Her brother's voice is heard from the other line.

"You were suppose to pick me up at the library. I asked you before I left for school, and you said you'd do it." (Y/n) puts one hand on her hip. "So where are you?"

"For real? I said that? You sure I wasn't drowsy or something?"

"I'll punch you." (Y/n) says bitterly.

"Sorry, sorry, but I completely forgot. Had I remembered, I would've already picked you up, but right now I'm handling an overnight shift. So unfortunately, you're gonna have to walk the entire way there. Sorry."

(Y/n) already begins to walk. "Jackass. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I didn't promise anything, last I recall."

A defined vein mark appears on the corner of (Y/n)'s forehead. "So you DO remember."

"Hardly." She clicks her tongue. "Well, I have to get back to work now. Call me when you get back home, okay?"

"Yeah." (Y/n) exhales. "See you."

"Bye-bye!" And just like that, the conversation between the siblings come to end.

(Y/n) proceeds to follow the route back home in silence. 'He's such a pain.' She thinks. 'Though that's because he chooses to be one.' She secures the strap of her bag upon her right shoulder. 'Damn it. Walking all the way back home from here is always such a pain. That's why I asked him personally to pick me up. But no, his job comes first before his own sister.'

As the young girl walks all by her lonesome, she recalls back to her past. 'My mom died shortly after I was born, due to her own medical issues. My brother has a whole bunch of memories of her, but I don't. I was only a year old when she passed away.' Her eyes narrow, her head lowering slightly.

'Not long after, my dad left so that run off with some chick he met, leaving my brother and I alone. By that time, my brother was seven, and I was three. Luckily, we were taken in by our grandparents, from my late mom's side. We still live under their care, and if anything, they're far more better than our shitty dad.'

'While I see my dad as a scumbag, I still don't know how to view my own mom. Whenever I think about her...lots of questions come to my mind; Did she already knew beforehand that her life was risk, had she given birth to me? Did she ever have regrets in having a family of her own? And if she had...would she have changed things herself? In some way?'

'But, no matter how often I ask myself these question, I'd never find the answers. Because I'm not mom. And I don't even know her well enough to answer for her, as much as it sucks to admit...'

In under an hour, (Y/n) finally arrives at her household. Before going through the short gates, she opens the mailbox built on the short brick wall that's built around the house. Inside she only finds a thick envelope that has her name written on the bottom left corner of the face.

"A letter?" (Y/n) now wears a dumbfounded look. "For me?" She shrugs it off and fully enters through the gates so that she can go towards the main entrance of her house.

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