Dear _______, [TomTord]

Pineapple

It was still the same day when Tom saw the small brown bag filled with money that Matt was carrying around.

When he arrived hole, he smelled the aroma of what he believed to be blueberry muffins and red velvet cupcakes. His mother had invited someone over or it was for the bakery she owned.

"Hey mom. What's going on around here?"

She turns around to see her son standing in the living room waiting for her response.

"Bakery. I am opening up tomorrow and I need to have these done by then. By the way, have you seen Matthew? His mother had been looking for him again."

He sighs and slightly shoves his bag onto the couch that went in a semicircle in the living room.

"Yeah I just spoke to him. He was at Granger's picking up some money that he was owed."

He heard his mom groan. They both knew how Matt was nowadays ever since the lose of his sister a few years back. Her name was Matilda.

She went through a short life but at least it was filled with lots of joy. The same one that Tom's father had too.

"That kid is going down the wrong path. He has been going off the rails ever since Matilda passed away. It isn't his fault that she died the way she did."

"Mom, Matt will never know that. No matter how much everyone around him tries to confirm otherwise. He feels like the blame is on him. I mean, these guys who despised him so much they planned out to kidnap and rape Matilda."

She sighs and looks over at Thomas.

"At least they caught the people who did it. Now they are rotting in prison as we speak. Now before we get any sadder, why don't you go ahead and do your homework?

I can't have you failing right now."

Tom sighs but instantly nods and his head and sits down to complete the multiple pages of trash that was due the next day.

>The Next Day<

It was already 1st period. There wasn't an assignment to do so everyone was chatting away about their personal lives. Everyone except Tom of course.

'What should I write to him this time? I can't keep him waiting...'

He had his usual small notebook on his lap and a pen in his hand that was tapping on his chin, showing off that he was in a deep trance of running thoughts.

Then it hit him.

Dear little friend,
                I know you don't like it when I call you by that but it suits you. Last time I saw you, you were a small bug next to me...not really but still. Anyways, I was wondering when I should tell our friend about the secret still. It is something that keeps coming back in the back of my mind. He needs all of us right now you know.
                We should meet up someday. Catch up with our daily lives face to face. It would help me with this greif inside my body that I sometimes feel it corrupting me. I am honestly not sure why but I know it's there.

Your biggest Pineapple,
Tom-

He placed down his pen and looked down at the note he had just written. It wasn't a good one but it was a nice one. Strangely.