Delilah Pierce didn't have the best home life, and when in school she tended to blend in with the crowd. She didn't mind it though, she was perfectly content with her 2 friends and her brother.
But what happens when she comes back to her six year a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
╚════════*.·:.·:·.·..✧✧✦✧✧.·:.·:·.·.*════════╝
My little Prince,
This is letter number... Honestly, I've already lost count. How are you? I'm well, and I hope you are too. I can't help but wonder if you've eaten, if you've drank enough water, even if you've gotten enough clothes. It's something I can't help to think, I want you to be okay. I need you to be okay.
I'm going to Nana's house for the holidays, first time in years. I'm pretty exited to see her, and some hopeful part of me hopes that you will be there waiting for me. I knows it's a stupid thought, but I can't help but want it to become reality. I miss you, little prince. More than words can describe. You are my son, even if you're my brother. I raised you- We raised you, and being far from you with nothing but silence filling your presence might be one of the most painful tortures I have to endure.
Something bad has happened.
I haven't talked to you about it because cowardice got the better of me. I don't want you to find out over a letter, I want to be able to hold you when I tell you the heartbreaking news. Part of me doesn't want to tell you, trying yo save you the pain I now have to live with until the end of times. But another part of me knows you deserve to know, That is if you don't already.
Just know that I love you, with every fiber of my being, with every inch of me. Know that I'm her for you, always. Know that I will wait for you until the sun burns out. One day, I will have my own house, it will be warm and welcoming, with many plants littering the place, maybe I'll even have my own garden; and in that house there will always be one room that will be untouched. Your room.
I'll give you a home, not a house. A home.
Just please come home.
With all my love, Your Lala.
I look down at the letter in my hands, staring at the words for so long they start to merge together. I'm standing in the owlery debating whether or not to give the letter to the owl. I haven't gotten a response in five years, so why do I keep sending them?
Hope. What a dangerous thing to have.
The little twinge of hope I still have in me, telling me that maybe this time he'll reply, is the only incentive I have to keep sending them. Because even if I don't get a reply, maybe he's still receiving them. Maybe he knows I haven't given up on him, that I'm here- waiting for him.
Or maybe...maybe I'm losing my time sending letters to a ghost.
So here I am with the little hope I have left, handing over the letter to the school owl. Watching as he flies away to wherever Lucian is.
