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Scott had fully moved into the apartment near his school, the place felt homey, except for the shoe box sitting on his brand-new couch. He glared at it as he took a bite of the meat-lovers pizza, willing it to do something. It looked like a normal shoe box, but being apart of the supernatural world for years left you suspicious of everything.
After thirty minutes of just looking, he carefully pulled it into his lap and lifted the lid up to look inside. He was greeted by a few letters with the same messy handwriting that his name was written in on the lid.
Then he read. He read and he read. But he couldn't believe the words that were scrawled across the page. He knew who it was from, from the first letter he knew who it was.
