Letters

Chapter Eight

We pulled up to the driveway. It looks way bigger than before, because I have been living in an apartment for a few months now.

"Hello hello hello!" Mom said, standing outside. I reached out for a hug.

When we got inside, we sat down in the living room to hang out for a bit.

"So the letter's haven't stopped, haven't they?" Mom asked us. 

"No. They've also gotten more and more threatening, too." Tori said.

"I just don't understand why you wont go to the police already. It's way better - and safer - that way!" 

"Mom, we don't even know WHO is writing them. Also, all we're doing is just putting them on a board with the date and time underneath it to figure out an average time they are sent," I explained to her.

"Also, we WILL go to the police, just as soon as we have enough information," Tori continued.

"Uh huh, got it," mom nodded, "you didn't tell me THAT part."

Luna already got comfortable, because she was on mom's lap. There was a knock on the door.

"Probably some solicitors or the neighborhood kids ding-dong ditching us," mom said, as Tori got up. She looked outside. 

"Yup, we've been ding dong di-" she looked down. "Apparently, these ding-dong ditchers are diferent, leaving paper on the doormat." she laughed. I grabbed the paper out of her hands.

"I'll give you three guesses of what this paper is, and the first two don't count."

"They didn't," Mom said, giving me a mad look.

"Oh, they did," I said, as I was about to read it aloud. I cleared my throat.

"'You thought going out of town would help? We were able to see you pack your stuff. Through your yellow curtains.'" 

"Oh god," Mom sighed.

"Why is this happening?" Tori asked.

"Beats me. But we might want to close the blinds," Mom said, worried.

"Why?" I asked.

"I see them."