Another Five Nights

With Love, End

I was still a crying mess as I walked back home. Too much had happened the night before. Way too much.

I missed Toby telling me off for using up all the power. I missed Jeremy grinning at me for no particular reason.

But somehow, the pang that hurt the most was the knowledge that CC was right there, just in my reach, after all these years of agony and pain and guilt and despair without him, he was there and I didn't even get to see him.
I wasn't even sure if I wanted to see him. Not when he'd popped in my office multiple times apparently with the intention of killing me.
Then again, when I apologized, he stopped. Everyone stopped. I was free to leave. Free to search the area for my friend. Did that... did that mean I was forgiven?

Does that really matter at the moment?

I wrapped my arms around myself, head lowered, sobs stifled and pace quickened. My legs seemed to shake underneath me, whether due to exhaustion or emotion, I couldn't tell.

Soon enough, I was at my apartment building, speed-walking towards the stairs, passing by the mailboxes when something caught my eye.

The mailbox with my room number on it had an envelope inside.

At first, I thought someone must have put it there by mistake. Nobody who knew my address was around anymore.
The thought wakened another sob.

However, as I took the envelope out, I found that it was, in fact, addressed to Michael Schmidt, living in Flat Number 2-B.

Michael Schmidt.

Why did that name sound so wrong and right at the same time?

As I ran my fingers over the envelope, I felt a lump in it. There was something hard and rectangular inside.

I decided to open it once I was actually inside my house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Home was not as pleasing of a sight as I wished it would be. If anything, the sight of it made me cry even more.

I tried to get a grip of myself but it wasn't working. I sat on the floor for quite a while, sobbing into my palms, unable to get the sights of my friends and family out of my head, the ones I'd seen with my own two eyes and the ones I had imagined.

After a bit, I breathed in and out deeply, lifting the envelope and tearing it open. I pulled the letter out first.

Dear Michael,

I hope you are doing well and have managed to remain unharmed these past few days. I've been worrying quite a lot about you. I just want you to know, I'm sorry. What I did wasn't fair on either you or even William at the time for that matter. I know that no number of apologies could possibly fix what I did, but I hope we can sit down and have a proper talk about this some time.

I know that you probably want nothing to do with me right now. I wouldn't want anything to do with me if I was in your shoes. But I think we really need to straighten our relations, seeing that we have similar goals.

Once again, I apologize, Michael. I wish you all the best in your endeavors.

With love,
Uncle Henry

Okay. Maybe I should've waited a little longer before reading that letter because it just made me cry even harder. I held it to my chest as I did, not exactly understanding why. I was supposed to be angry with Uncle Henry, instead here I was feeling all... grateful... for the letter.

Then again... should I be holding a grudge against him for withholding information that would've shattered me at the time? No... I really couldn't blame him for being scared into silence when he was faced with a dead body. And... I couldn't deny that my father had always been extremely manipulative. Was it really Uncle Henry's fault if he fell for a few of his traps?

In the middle of my misery, when my emotions overpowered all practical sense, I found the strength in my heart to forgive Uncle Henry, almost wholeheartedly. Maybe it was because he was all I had left. Maybe I'd already forgiven him, and realized it only now. Who knows?

That's when I remembered the other thing in the envelope. The solid thing. I picked up the envelope and shook it hard, which made a lighter drop out of it.

Did it come here by accident?

I flicked the lighter on and off repeatedly, failing to understand why Uncle Henry had sent it with his letter.

At some point, I'd held it close to the letter, and faded text caught my eye.

The classic invisible ink trick. How did I not expect it?

I held the flame close to the paper and read the words on the page.

I felt my figurative heart leap in my chest.

"I tested it, and it worked!"

Did Uncle Henry really figure it out?

Was destroying remnant and freeing the souls really two sides of the same coin?

The end was so close, I could almost taste it.

Without another moment's delay, I ran over to the telephone and dialed Uncle Henry's number, swallowing the crack in my voice from the crying.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Uncle! Miss me?"

I was answered with a cheerful, relieved laugh on the other end of the line.

I smiled. We were back in business, baby!