An Average Girl

All There Is

Entering my house I flick on the lights illuminating the hallway. I drop my school bag by the front door, not really caring enough to take it up to my room. Mindlessly I walk in my living room, sparsely decorated with a single leather couch and a coffee table with a black plasma television screen mounted on the wall. Lazily I toss the pile of mail in my hands on the empty coffee table and collapse onto the couch. I can see the remote for the television on the floor, but I’m too tired to move. Instead I stare at the blank screen as if I could turn it on with my mind. I spend about half an hour here on this couch unmoving, not thinking, just allowing myself to be. The muscles in my face were languid and I was tempted to just fall asleep right then and there, but if I did I would not sleep through the night.

Out of boredom I stretched my arm and grabbed the mail that I had carelessly thrown earlier. I began flipping through it, most of it was junk. Pizza coupons, internet promotions, flyers for local groceries stores found themselves before my eyes, but I quickly dismissed their importance moving onto the next envelope in my hands. There were a couple bills for the house but my mother paid everything online, so there was no distinct purpose for those either. Towards the end of the pile was a hand written letter addressed to me with no return address. It was thin, but it felt heavy in my hands as a foreboding sensation found a home in the pit of my stomach.

I sat upright, unsure if I should open it or not. The only people who knew where I lived were my friends from school, and none of them would bother writing me a letter when I saw them almost every day. No, this had to be from him. From the one person I was trying my hardest to avoid, to pretend that he had never existed. I wanted to disappear into the woodwork of a cookie-cutter house in a different part of the country. I had left no trace of my intended destination when I left all those months ago. How could he have found me?

My fingers turned numb, and I found it hard to grip the envelope in my hands. Licking my lips I wasn’t sure if I wanted to open it or not. Hearing what he had to say would only make me more nervous, it would do nothing for my sanity if I allowed him to constantly be a reminder in my life. But at the same time, the pull was almost impossible to ignore. They say ignorance is bliss but I already knew the letter existed and having knowledge of its contents would at the very least stop my mind from running wild with all the possibilities as to what it could contain.

I checked my surroundings once more, just to guarantee I was alone. I knew my mother was not home but it did not stop the tiny hairs from standing up on the back of my neck. Carefully peeling open the flap on the back, I took extra effort to prevent it from my ripping. My heart rate started to accelerate, the increase in tempo building up to a climax I was not quite ready for. Closing my eyes I focused on my breathing, lowering it back to its normal pace so I didn’t find myself in a self-induced panic attack. For a split second I thought about burning it, but the curiosity was too much. The anticipation was becoming too much.

With unsteady hands I tugged the single folded piece of paper out of its envelope. It was a thin sheet of lined paper, the type most people used for their homework. The edge of one side was torn as if he had ripped it out of a notebook, noticing the distinct purple line marking the margins; I knew he took it from my room back in New York. Last year I had gotten it for school from a cute little stationary shop, but now it was sitting in a drawer in my desk with the rest of my possessions that I had left behind. The fact that he was in my room made a shiver crawl down my spine, I wonder what else he had went through in my absence.

Unfolding it slowly, his usual messy handwriting was more tamed like he took the time writing each and every character out. Every word was well thought-out and intentional.

Dear My Ever Sweet Sara,

It took me some time to figure out where you were, but I have no doubt my letter has finally found you. I miss you; it’s been a long time since I last glimpsed your face. I just wanted you to know that I’m still thinking about you all the time and it won’t be much longer till we are reunited once more.