Dear Mark,
It's me again. Obviously. Who else would be writting to you? I should really stop putting you down all the time, making it out like you're the worst person on Earth. There's a lot of people who disgust me more than you, for example, there's me. I don't really know what I'm trying to say...I just need some way to start these letters off. Billy's gone on a school trip, he's staying at this camp place for a few days, so I'm alone in this house. I guess that's why I'm writing this letter now, not that long after the last one. So anyway... Let me get on with the story.
After I saw the car being driven away, I don't remember too much of the next few days. I know there was a lot of screaming and trying to break through all the doors and windows, and through all of that, Dylan just tried to keep me calm, or contained so I wasn't a danger to anyone. Occasionally my brother would walk down the stairs to help, but not really that often. He didn't seem to care about any of this, he was in a home instead of out on the street or in jail. I suppose he was happy with the way things were. But after those few days, when I'd fibally calmed down a bit more, he made me realise that Billy was gone. He told me there was no getting him back. But I knew better. I called the police.
Obviously, my first suspect was Jack, but when he turned up on Dylan's doorstep, crying his heart out, I knew it wasn't him that took Billy. I went home with him after that. How could I not? He was just as upset and angry as me, I figured we could help each other get through this. Every day, Billy's picture was on the news, the front covers of the papers, the missing leaflets skipping down the pavements. But there was no sign of anyone finding him. So after a few weeks, me and Jack took matters in our own hands. We went on a Billy hunt. Metaphorically speaking. What we actually did was drive around for days with no rest, screaming his name out of the windows until both of our throats were raw.
We must have driven halfway across the country when we got the phone call from the police, saying they thought theu'd found him. Turns out they hadn't, and our mad rush back to our home town was all for nothing. The whole Jack and Dylan thing had been forgotten for the time being, we were all too focused on finding Billy. I think it was about another week before the person who had him made contact with the police. '1,000 pounds for the kid. Take it or leave it.' That was the first message we got. The next day he told us where to leave the money. The day after that he told us where Billy would be when he got it.
Somehow, me and Jack managed to scrape the right amount between us, and left it just where the person had instructed. We hid until we saw the person get the money and then ran out to the lake, and as promised, Billy was sat there, crying and bruised, but alive. I can't even explain how happy and relieved I was here. I just simply cannot put it into words. It is actually impossible. I don't even remember how it felt, all I know is that it was one of the best feelings in the world. We didn't let him out of our sight for weeks, if one of us had to go out, the other stayed in with him, and if neither of us could stay at home, well, he just had to go wherever we were going. But I think Jack eventually found it a bit too much, looking after Billy constantly, so he started spending more and more time away from home.
It did worry me a bit, but I wasn't all that bothered. Maybe this whole ordeal had brought us closer again, but not so close that I cared about what he was doing. As long as he text me every now and then to tell me he was safe, I was fine. Dylan, on the other hand, didn't even bother asking about me or Billy. He just asked if I wanted to buy anything from my brother. I think you know what things I'm talking about. What else would someone in my messed up family deal in. I denied every offer, I didn't want to be anything like him. And I'm not, I'm worse. I figured if Dylan was asking me this, my brother had somehow got him hooked aswell. He'd fallen in with the wrong crowd as usual. I'd find a way to help him though, and it partly helped when the police knocked on his door, demanding he handed my brother in. He was long gone by that point though, of course he was. Didn't mean he wouldn't find a way to send things to Dylan, I'd have to find a way to become his personal post woman or something. So that's what I did. While Jack was on one of his longer stays away from us, I went round to Dylan's and threw out everything I could find, and from that day on, hecked every piece of mail that came to his house. And I continued to do that until he was sober, or at least less addicted.
I guess I'll leave it at that tonight Mark. I know this part of the story is probably very boring, but just stick with me. It'll get better soon, believe me. I just need to find a way to nake these letters last longer, I don't want to finish the story so quick, I'm not ready to finish my one way conversations with you yet. I can skip a few weeks next time if you want, but that'll be as far as I go. A few more boring bits after that, and then we'll get to the good bits. The nearly-the-end bits. Believe me. I'll get there as soon as I can. I reckon that's it now. I have nothing else I need to say. Stay safe I suppose.
Anna
A/N The end bit was kinda the authors note I suppose haha Basically, I'm sorry this was rubbish, but it's like I know how the story ends, I just can't think of anything else to happen in the middle, so it's basically filler chapters until a bit later on. Unless I can think of something. So yup, thanks for reading anyway :)
