2025

Chapter 01

Erin stood at the camps entrance, waiting patiently for her father to arrive. Thankfully, he wasn't too swamped with work that day, so he managed to make it. With two bags in her grasp, a backpack and a cerulean floral suitcase—-the most her parents could afford—-she glanced down at her belongings, quietly pleased with their decent appearance.

Erin watched as her fathers shiny maroon car glided into the well-maintained parking lot. Despite the approaching autumn, when the leaves typically turned brown and fell from the trees, the grounds around them remained unspoiled. She instinctively smoothed out the fabric of her long skirt and took a seat in the passengers side. She was greeted by her father warm smile.

"So," her father began, curiously inquiring, "how was camp?" Erin paused for a moment, considering her response before offering a quick reply. "It was about how you'd expect," she replied nonchalantly, her eyes quickly shifting toward the window. As they pulled away from the luxurious girl scouts camp, the natural beauty and vibrant energy of Sleepy Peak began to unfold before her eyes.

"I guess I'll take that as a good thing," her father said, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead. Erin hummed in agreement, and as twilight settled in, tiny droplets of rain trickled down the window. The pattern of the raindrops bore a resemblance to the way Tabii's freckles spattered across her cheeks and nose. Erin let a small smile slip onto her face before quickly masking it, caught in her thoughts.

"Looks like it's raining," her father remarked as they pulled into their driveway. The car came to a stop, and Erin turned to her dad. "Did mom fill in your work for you at the library?" She asked, "Yes." Erin stepped out of the car and made her way toward the house. "You know, your mother's business has really been drawing a crowd." Erin's face lit up as she heard her father's words, her eyes sparkled like tiny stars illuminating the expansive night sky.

Erin hurried to her room, of course, she knew she had to first unpack and share some stories about her summer with her dad—-although, naturally, some details were left out. And once she was done, she finally had a chance to sit down at her desk and properly look around her room for the first time in what felt like ages. Summer had this unique ability to simultaneously feel both short and incredibly long, leaving her with a mix of disbelief and comfort.

Erin adjusted her appearance, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She pushed her blue hair out of her face, revealing her golden eye in the process. With a slight movement of her hand, she fiddled with her pink hair clip to secure it in place. Finally, she grabbed a black hair tie and gathered her hair into a neat ponytail, allowing her straightened locks to cascade around her shoulders.

Erin searched through her cabinet, meticulously seeking a specific accessory—-a white, lacy bow. As she grasped it, her fingers brushed against an unfamiliar, smooth texture lying beneath it. Curious, she extracted a white envelope, her eyebrows knit together in confused as she tried to recall when she had placed it there.

The realization dawned on Erin—-a few months earlier, during spring, she had written a note for her future self in 2025. It was a creative project she had seen on Instagram and decided to adapt for herself. By this time, she would hopefully be in college, pursuing her dreams of becoming a biologist or perhaps working in business, using her skills in statistics and data analysis. These thoughts gave her hope that she would indeed follow that path.

Erin clipped the bow onto her ponytail, then closed the cabinet with a soft click as she placed the envelope on her desk. With careful hands, she delicately pulled out the letter, ensuring she didn't tear it in the process. The message goes as follows: Dear 2025... I am writing this letter to the future. I am 13, and the year is 2017... However, the sentence abruptly ended there. Erin's expression softened as she searched for a pencil. Once she located one, she took a seat at her desk and began to think.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Erin jot down two questions: How much progress have you been making in terms of academics? And Have we finally been accepted into that college we wanted? She gently placed the note back into the envelope and closed it up. Oddly, there was nothing written on the front or back, leaving its purpose entirely vague and up to her memory.

"ERIN!" Her father's voice echoed from the kitchen. Erin donned her slippers and made her way over, where her father handed her a stack of letters. "Can you put these in the mailbox?" he asked, "Cousins schooling. You know how difficult your Aunt can be about these things." He murmured something unintelligible as he continued chopping up a strawberry, the sweet scent of toast filling the air. Oblivious to what she was doing, Erin placed her own envelope onto the stack of letters.

Erin stepped out into the front yard and headed down the steps to the indigo mailbox. She placed the letters inside and flipped up the carrier flag, allowing it to flutter in the warm, late summer breeze. Birds chirped and fluttered around her before she turned around the returned indoors, closing the door behind her. The mouthwatering scent of freshly made toast filled the air, and Erin could already taste it melting on her tongue as she settled into a chair in the kitchen.

✎ ◛ __________________________________

The next morning arrived, and Erin woke up before the sun had even peeked through her windows. She put on her slippers and carefully made her way down the stairs of her home. With each step, the sound of the wooden boards creaking beneath her padded feet echoed in the quiet house. Finally, she reached the front door, its hinges softly protesting as it swayed behind her while she stepped outside. The cool, crisp air of the night greeted her and made her shiver as it brushed against her face.

Erin stood before the mailbox and gently opened it, extracting two letters from within. She clutched the envelopes firmly in her hand as she turned to walk back into her home, pausing for a moment to slowly shut the door behind her and sigh in relief. Silent. Upon examination, one of the letters was indecipherable, most likely related to her father's work. However, the second letter bore no writing on the envelope, its contents unknown.

Erin placed her father's work letter aside, intending to give it to him in the morning. After reaching her room, she navigates to her desk and switched on the lamp. She hastily opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of lined paper. As she read, disbelieve and anticipation washed over her face, eyes wide.

Dear, 2017.
I never thought that I would receive this note, although I do recall writing one, I assumed it'd be long forgotten.
My academics have plummeted since middle school, our families only source of income has been taken away from us. That means we couldn't get into any college yet. I always wanted to tell you one thing before it all went downhill, before you have everything taken away from you, remember that the way you treated those who you called friends has always been a reflection of yourself. We both know it, so please, stop pretending.
Love, 2025.