Twenty Letters

Chapter 1

                                                                         May 16th, 2015

                                                               Raleigh, North Carolina

        Even though it was May and everything was supposed to be bright and sunny, it was the opposite. It was rainy, gloomy and dark, which suited Kathryn just fine, because that’s how she felt. Kathryn knew she should leave. The ceremony had ended an hour ago. She just couldn't pull herself away, because that would mean really saying goodbye. She kept on replaying her mother’s last words to her as she was dying.

        “Keep safe, stay low, trust very few, and always know that I love you,” her mother whispered in her ear. It almost sounded poetic and familiar, because that is what her mother whispered every night has she passed by her room, thinking she was asleep. Kathryn never quit understood what that really meant, and still didn’t know. She wished her mother was still alive so that she could ask her, but that will never happen.

        With a sigh she looked down at her mother’s headstone, which read upon her request, “Marie Chaplin beloved wife, mother, and victor over her enemy.” Kathryn didn’t know what the last description meant or why she would want a different name on it, but it was what he mother wanted word for word. When she had asked her mother about it, she dismissed the question with a wave of her hand and said one day it will all make sense. Kathryn wondered if that “one day” would ever come, because she was now more confused as ever. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t have any relatives, at least none that she knew about. No friends, since she was homeschooled and kept to herself most of the time. And currently no house since the bank had to take it away and everything in it to pay for her mother’s medical expenses. Her mother had put up a good fight against her killer, but in the end the cancer won and as a result, took her mother from her as a prize. She always thought he mother would win, because she never lost. Well that definitely changed.

        A loud crack sounded from the sky, signaling her it was time to go. So she went to the only place she knew was safe, although most were temporary. She went home.

                                                                          ^^^^^

        As Kathryn walked up the driveway she could see that the movers hadn’t wasted any time and were already taking everything away. She walked through the front door and was greeted by her mom’s assigned lawyer.

        “Oh there you are, where on earth have you been?”

        Before Kathryn could respond the lawyer started talking again.

        “Never mind that, let’s see…oh yes, everything, as I told you before, is being sold. Except your clothes and a few of your personal items that are of no value. Oh I almost forgot your mom wrote a box of letters before she died and told me to give it to you, so it is sitting in your room. You also need to be out of the house by tomorrow morning. That is all, I am very sorry for your loss. Good luck,” said the lawyer without any emotion what so ever.

        She then turned around and went back to supervising the movers.

        It took all Kathryn had in her to not blow up in the lawyer’s face, but knowing that it wouldn’t help anyone; she silently went back to her room. When she walked through the door she was shocked by how bare her room appeared. What once used to be a safe haven, now looked exactly how she felt; empty. Her bed no longer sat in the corner of the room against the wall. Her blue walls had already been painted over with the brightest white. Even her dresser and chair were gone. All that remained was a box of her clothes, her old guitar, her mother’s old suitcase, and another box filled with stuff that the lawyer had called “of no value”. Once again she thought about giving that lawyer a piece of her mind, but again saw no point in wasting her time. What really caught her eye was the black box. It was about the size of a shoe box and had her name written in her mother’s fancy handwriting on the top in silver marker. She slowly went towards it and sat down indian style on the floor. She then gently picked it up and put it in her lap. She was almost too scared to open it, but curiosity won over and with great care, took the lid off. There inside sat a neat stack of about twenty letters all addressed to her. And each one had a different number written in the top right hand corner. She figured she should probably start with the one that had the number one written on it. So she picked that one up first. Slowly she tore it open and took the letter out. It read…