elizabeth's hatbox

nine;

noah,

i'm slowly drifting away, wave after wave.

i quoted that off a song, sorry. i can relate to almost everything it says and in simple words, i cannot get it out my head. allan mildred's is a similar case.

we spend a lot of time together. almost as much as time i spent with the girls altogether. he's amazing, noah. he makes me laugh like no other. i almost feel normal, i feel welcome in this little subdivision. more welcome than i'd ever felt anywhere.

he lives a few blocks down our street, a walkable length away. i've been to his house quite a few times now. it's big, bigger than ours, and there's a swimming pool behind it. i've never directly asked him but i assume he's rich.

mum's sobered up. she's all right now, and the sad smile on her face is brave and inerasable. dad's used to his new job now. mum and dad, they enjoy allan's presence, they like having him around, which is a good thing. a really good thing.

i don't know why i said that.

anyway, the girls seem to be avoiding me, now that i've started hanging with allan more than them. i have nothing to say in my defense, so i don't. being with al is much more enjoyable than it was being with them, anyway.

ouch. was that mean?

oh well. earlier this morning, i put my letters to you in elizabeth's abandoned box. it's being neglected, i almost felt it. it'd been a while since i checked up on liz's letters, so i did today. i haven't read all of her letters because i felt it'd be intruding. i just read a few to her sister, her friends and you. anyway, i put your letters into her hatbox because that way, the two of you'll have a certain connection, a bond. i don't know why, but it felt right.

you and her. noah and elizabeth. sounds good to me.