"Mom, I got letters!" Winter called out, her excitement reverberating through the house. She bounded down the steps, her eyes glued to her phone as she sorted through the contents of the mailbox. Not bothering to identify the recipients, she tossed the envelopes behind her without a second thought.
Her mother, engrossed in preparing dinner, set aside her spatula and made her way toward Winter. She gave the stack of letters a quick glance, her brow furrowing as she singled out one peculiar item. "Uh, this one is for you, Winter." She held out an envelope that appeared aged, its yellowing paper and frayed edges hinting at years of neglect.
Winter furrowed her brows, staring at the envelope. It bore a postmark but no indication of who had sent it. "What a strange letter," she muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs, a sense of unease creeping over her. Beneath its unassuming exterior, something felt inherently odd about it.
"Just bizarre, but whatever," she shrugged.
Once in her room, she tossed herself onto the bed with a huff, placing the unopened letter on her desk as she resumed scrolling through social media. Time drifted by, and before long, her mom's voice called her to dinner, pulling her from her digital reverie.
• • •
"Who's the secret admirer?" her mom prodded, a teasing grin on her face as she set the table.
Winter squinted, momentarily bewildered at how her mother's comment had pierced through the evening's mundane atmosphere. "Mom, it's called 'secret' for a reason! I don't know who it is. Besides, it's anonymous." She mentally slapped herself for the overly explanatory response, regretting her failing to grasp that her mother simply didn't understand the concept of secret admirers. Classic boomer moment.
"Did you open the letter?" her mom pressed on, her interest beginning to rival Winter's indifference.
"Nope, looks boring to me." Winter shrugged, her disinterest palpable.
Her mother placed a plate of steaming food in front of her. "Sweetheart, don't underestimate old-looking envelopes. You never know-don't judge a book by its cover."
Winter mulled over her mother's words. Maybe it wasn't so boring after all. The allure of the unusual envelope began to tug at her curiosity.
"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, dismissing her mother's advice.
Later that evening, when the remnants of dinner were cleared away, Winter crept back up to her room, her gaze instinctively drawn to the letter still sitting on her desk. 'It may look old-fashioned, but I'm going to open you because there's something uniquely captivating about you.'
Curiosity piqued, she slowly tore the envelope open. Inside, a handwritten letter awaited. As she unfolded the page, her mouth fell agape. The writing had a distinct antiquity about it; the edges were partially singed and torn, revealing a history of wear. Oddly enough, it wasn't in Hangul, her native script, but in Chinese characters. Thankfully, she had picked up enough Chinese from her friend, Ning Yi Zhuo, to make sense of it.
The letter began with a warm greeting:
"Greetings,
How are you? I hope you are doing fine and always take care. Tell me about your day and how school went."
Though brief, the message struck a chord deep within Winter. No one had ever reached out to her in such a personal way before-usually, it was the typical requests for dates or awkward compliments about her looks. This was different; it felt genuine and caring. Yet, with no signature or return address, the anonymity gnawed at her, leaving her aching for clarity.
Initially tempted to ignore the letter altogether, she quickly reconsidered. What if she could reply? But what kind of response could she send, and how could she be sure it would ever reach its mysterious author? 'Oh well,' she thought, shrugging it off for the moment.
Determined to craft her reply, she rummaged through her drawers until she found her fanciest stationery and a glittery pen. An idea blossomed in her mind-she'd channel her artistic instincts into this correspondence. Her hand moved swiftly across the paper, writing about her day.
Her letter read:
"Hi there,
Mom says you're a pen pal! Thanks for asking about my day. Honestly, you're the first person ever to ask me that. My day was fine-I mostly scrolled through my phone and binge-watched Netflix. Not the healthiest choices, aside from what my mom forced me to eat-a green salad. So, that's about it. I really hope this gets to you, and if it does, please write back!
Xoxo,
Winter :3"
After sealing it with a flourish, she eagerly placed her letter inside an envelope, sealing it with her saliva-a rather quirky gesture she found delightful-and dashed off to the mailbox, her heart racing with anticipation. Even though she didn't have the slightest clue how the correspondence would find its way back to her secret sender, she couldn't help but hope.
The next morning dawned bright and cheerful. Winter bounced down the stairs, a skip in her step. She flung open the main door, only to be halted by her mom's voice. "Winter! Good morning! You seem to be in a good mood-where are you off to?"
With a bright smile, she replied, "Just checking the mail!"
A glint appeared in her mom's eyes as she teased, "Ah, it must be that secret admirer from last night, right?" Winter feigned ignorance, skipping out the door, but deep down, her mother had hit the nail on the head.
She approached the mailbox only to find it empty. Devastation washed over her. She rummaged through the mailbox, even searching the ground beneath it, desperate for something-anything. With a frown, she sprinted back inside, locating her mom in the kitchen.
"Have you seen any mail?" she blurted out, frustration coating her words.
"No, honey, not a thing. Why? Didn't that boy write back?" Winter's disappointment only deepened.
"Gender assumptions are dangerous, mom. It could be a girl for all we know." She rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, Winter, I haven't seen anything come in today."
Sighing, Winter trudged back upstairs, her hopes of a reply dwindling. The unknown lingered uncomfortably in the air-either the person didn't want to reply or her message had yet to reach them.
As she gazed blankly out the window, she spotted the mailman approaching with a stack of letters. Her heart raced. Could one of those be a response to her letter?
She dashed outside without a second thought as the mailman dropped letters into their mailbox.
"Oh my gosh! They responded!" she exclaimed, excitement bubbling as she flung open the mailbox once more.
Winter's heart thudded in her chest as she rifled through the letters, determined to uncover what lay within the mysterious envelope.
"Holy shit! That person responded!"
YOU ARE READING
ATTACHED • Winrina
FanfictionWinter kept receiving letters from an unknown recipient. One day, the recipient wrote her name and date. She discovered they were decades apart. ❗Winter × Karina❗
