Tell me thy tale thou hapless chronicler
Of thine own tragedies! Do not contemn
These unfamiliar haunts, this English field,
-
5th August, 1943
Finchley, England
Dear Bonnie,
What the fuck is wrong with schools!? And damn England!
Oh, I'm sorry if you're reading this out loud where your parents or brother are. And yes, I know this isn't the 'appropriate' letter f̶o̶r̶n̶ format, but I'm far too annoyed to be bothered with that.
We were supposed to be going back to school the first week of September, which is a WHOLE MONTH LATER, but now all schools are to reopen from the middle of August? Which is in less than TWO WEEKS. This isn't fair, we were supposed to have a l̶o̶n̶g̶e̶r̶ much longer summer vacation! The school owns us for most of the year, anyway, why do they need us for l̶o̶n̶g̶e̶r̶ even more time?
I've been having such a pleasing time during these hols, and especially during the last few days- and f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ stupid school wants to take it away again? H̶o̶w̶ a̶m̶ I̶ s̶u̶p̶p̶o̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ s̶p̶e̶n̶d̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ a̶n̶d̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ s̶e̶x̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ E̶d̶m̶u̶n̶d̶ i̶f̶ h̶e̶'s̶ l̶o̶c̶k̶e̶d̶ a̶w̶a̶y̶ i̶n̶ a̶n̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ s̶c̶h̶o̶o̶l̶!? D̶o̶ y̶o̶u̶ k̶n̶o̶w̶ h̶o̶w̶ g̶l̶o̶r̶i̶o̶u̶s̶ i̶t̶'s̶ b̶e̶e̶n̶? A̶n̶d̶ n̶o̶w̶ i̶t̶'s̶ a̶l̶l̶ g̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ g̶o̶n̶e̶! Ed and I are going to be separated again- I won't have swings to play on- won't have my own room- and I'll have to be around those AWFUL people at school again.
Well, except for you. You're the only part of this w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ whole irritating matter I don't mind. And no, before you say anything- I'm not turning 'mushy', that'll never happen, I'm just telling the truth.
Ugh. I hate this so much. Why can't life be p̶e̶r̶e̶n̶n̶i̶a̶l̶ constant vacation? Why is school even necessary? How does learning how many atoms there are in a molecule help with survival!?
You know, I was c̶o̶n̶ complaining to my grandmother all day when we got the news and she said, verbatim, 'would you stop talking, you're irritating me- why don't you go use your mouth to s̶o̶g̶ snog that boy instead?'
I swear, I went as red as l̶i̶t̶c̶h̶e̶e̶s̶ l̶i̶t̶c̶h̶i̶s̶ l̶e̶e̶c̶h̶e̶s̶ l̶i̶t̶c̶h̶e̶̶s̶ litchis- but, at least it's a good thing she's aware of s̶o̶m̶e̶ o̶f̶ the things we do.
Anyway.
How are you doing? How's your parents? You mentioned your dad had a check-up in your last letter- was it just a n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶ regular thing, or something serious? And your lung condition- I hope it's alright, and it hasn't- oh, what was the word?
Manifested? Yes, manifested, that's what you said. It hasn't manifested est externally, right?
And your little brother? I think c̶h̶i̶l̶d̶r̶e̶n̶'s̶ day schools still open in September (LIKE ALL THE SCHOOLS ARE SUPPOSED TO), so he's lucky on that front, he gets to have a longer holiday. It was so much better to be y̶o̶u̶n̶g̶ a child. Tell your brother not to grow up. Tell him everything goes to shit after age t̶e̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶r̶t̶e̶e̶n̶ s̶i̶x̶t̶e̶e̶n̶ n̶i̶n̶e̶ twelve.
YOU ARE READING
Fairytale?
Fanfiction𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆' 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 A lifetime of grief. A thousand years of waiting. Enough torment to cripple the divine. But Sanya found Edmund, at the end of it all. He held her in his arms again...
