dear wren,
so i know that the first letter i ever wrote to you was kind of vague, and i feel like explaining myself.
if you don't recall, it talked about how the last i had seen you, tears were dripping through the floorboards onto my head.
that was an ugly day. i wasn't really sure what was wrong, but we were studying over at your place, and all of a sudden, you get a phone call, run up the stairs, and i wait.
and wait.
and wait.
i sit there not knowing what to do, because i swear i could hear you sobbing. i swear that i felt teardrops splashing onto my head.
eventually, i did go up to you and hug you, and naturally you fell asleep, looking slightly less disturbed and more peaceful.
by the way, something i love as much as your hugs is your hair. i sat there rubbing it for what seemed hours.
anyways, that day was weeks ago. and i've finally found out what had happened.
wren, i am so sorry.
your sister didn't deserve to die.
-grace.
YOU ARE READING
leather jackets.
Novela Juvenil| you were standing all alone in that leather jacket of yours that smells like cigarettes and moth balls. you still wear it, even though it's tattered and old. i think it looks lovely on you. |
