Dear Friday,
It's probably been a month since I last wrote to you.
I try writing to you every week but school takes up most my time.
I hope your parents and sibling are contacting you, they can't just abandon you, they're still your legal guardians.
Sometimes I don't understand how the academic mind works and I assume that they are all rude and incapable of social understanding.
But I'm wrong, I guess.
(If you're going to write back to me I won't mind if you point out that for once, I've admitted I was wrong.)
You're proof that the academic mind doesn't always drift back to their research.
Sometimes it finds other things to explore and investigate.
And it does its best to cope with humanity.
I wonder if you're reading this, smiling, thinking about when you'll get out of there.
We made a promise a year ago. To meet again after four years. To have an adventure.
But Friday, don't wait for me.
Don't wait for me to have an adventure.
You may be asking how can you have an adventure when you're stuck in a cell half the time.
While I can't answer that, know this: don't let every moment in there crush you. Don't let them stop you from being the Friday that I know.
From Ian
YOU ARE READING
Lost Letters
FanfictionFriday has been locked up in juvenile detention just a year after Ian left. Ian's letters from Italy that R.A Spratt didn't go in details about.
