Daydreams?

Chapter 2- I Love You

I arrived home as the sun began revealing itself to this side of the earth. The bright rays warmed my cold and damp body, but it didn't warm my interior. Not even the sun's power could warm the place in my heart that's turned to stone. It felt like a part of me was missing.

My grandma would be up soon, cooking a traditional breakfast of bacon, pancakes, and eggs. Sometimes, she would be ambitious, adding grits and biscuits into the mix. My appetite had yet to return, so instead I went to my room, peeling off the still damp clothes before slipping my pajamas back on.

***

"Still mad at me Ali?" I opened one eye, coming face to face with my imaginary friend.

"Yes." I turned over, trying to ignore him.

"Come on Al. You can't be mad at your own imagination for being curious about what happened to your best friend, can you?"

"I am, so yes, it's possible." I heard him sigh, agitated by my answer.

"Why don't you write a letter?" I turned back to him, giving him an odd look.

"What?"

"Write a letter. It may help you with closure, if that's what you're looking for." He looked to the desk in my room and back to me. I laughed aloud, thinking his idea was absurd.

"Write a letter? To Landon? As in the dead Landon?" I gestured to the desk, knowing it was covered with random papers scattered everywhere.

"Yes. This is serious Al. Act like it." I nodded, getting up to start my letter. I grabbed a clean sheet of paper, and a pen with green ink, his favorite color.

"What do I write? I don't know what to say. I'm writing to someone who's dead." I looked back at the boy, who shrugged, coming to lean on the back of my chair.

"Just write what you feel Al. It'll  come to you."

"Alright Landon." I looked at the blank piece of paper, trying to figure out how I should start the letter.

Hey Landon,

So I know that you're not alive anymore, or you know, as far as we know, but I'm going to write a letter to you anyways. You would smile if you could read this, or maybe you'd cry. I don't know. I'm just going to write down what I feel.

The last two and a half weeks have been some of the hardest in my life. Your death (or missing status) really hit hard. I rushed to the scene, trying to find you, but you had been thrown out of the car. The police had to literally drag me away from that old pickup before I would leave. I've almost completely lost my appetite, only eating when I get really hungry. I even turned down spaghetti last night.

I've started to see things. You met me twice yesterday, and forced me to write this letter. Too bad it's my imagination and not really you. I would do anything to get you back.

I went to our hideout last night for the first time since you died. You would have loved it. The moon was full, casting a brilliant light on the meadow. I talked to you, like I promised, even though you weren't there, but someone else was. They watched me until I saw them, but then they decided it was time to get going. I didn't have the energy to follow them. I had cried too much, screamed too loud, and asked too much to care what they thought.

I know this is kind of long, and it may be a bit depressing, but you won't read it anyway so why does it matter? I can write whatever I want.

Love You Forever,

Alice

I finished the letter, not caring to add anything else. I added a picture of us in a photo booth from a month ago, stapling it carefully to the letter before putting it into an envelope.