Letters to Myself

Chapter 1 - The Vintage Thrift Shop

Cornelia quietly paced the aisles of her favorite thrift store, looking for something—anything, really—that she could buy to make the hour and forty-five-minute trek worth the drive. She scanned the rows and rows of books and CDs, hoping one thing would scream her name to bring home.

She scanned the worn book spines. Many classics, children's books, and very expensive editions, but mainly books that Cornelia had read throughout the years.

Cornelia has been coming to this thrift store since she discovered it her freshman year of high school with her best friend Margaret. They were just driving around in the city and discovered the little store front window and decided that it was perfect to explore for the hot summer afternoon. They lived about twenty minutes from the city and loved to explore it during those unbearable summer days. It was the weekend just before summer vacation, but it had gotten hot early that year.

"I bet you can't find anything under fifty dollars in here!" Margaret exclaimed as the bell on the front door chimed. Margaret was a year older than Cornelia, but they had been joined at the hip since they met—best friends destined from the beginning—and Margaret had just turned sixteen and got her license, so they were out every night since then.

"I bet you I can!" Cornelia squealed as she took in the room they walked into. There were stacks and stacks of luxurious vintage boxes and books and clothes and paintings. She let out a sigh as they walked through the maze at the front of the store.

There ended up being four floors; a basement and two upper floors were shown on the map of the building.

"There is no way we will be able to look at everything," Margaret said as they finished on the second floor. Two down, two to go. "We will just have to come back! Oh, did you find anything under five dollars, yet?"

Cornelia let out a laugh, "Not yet! I came close with some of the clothes, but we haven't found the books yet. I bet those are under five dollars."

"That's cheating!" Margaret laughed and checked her watch for the time, looking up Cornelia could see the panic registering in her eyes.

"I'm late" was all Margaret said before she took off down the stairs, searching her pockets for her phone.

Cornelia ran after her, careful not to trip down the stairs as she followed her through the maze. "Maggie Rose! What's wrong?" Cornelia nearly yelled as Margaret ran across the street to her car, nearly getting hit by the oncoming traffic.

Margaret wasn't someone who worried about being late to something, or even not showing up. As Cornelia climbed into the car, Margaret had her hand shoved down between the seats, fishing out her phone. "We have to go."

The ride home wasn't very long, but there was an eerie silence hanging inside the car. They were half way home before Margaret spoke.

"I was supposed to be home an hour ago, but we since we lost track of time, my mom is going to kill me!" There was a hiccup in her voice at the end of the sentence. "Today was the day that my grandparents were coming back from France. And you know how they are."

Cornelia did know how they were. Her grandparents had high expectations, not just for everyone personally, but that they had the expectation that they were the most important people in their family's life. Margaret had a hard time with this, especially because she didn't feel like she belonged with her family. Her family was very proper like they were stuck in the Victorian Era, not anything like Margaret, the carefree spirit. Margaret was one to jump at every adventure, live each day to the fullest, and not worry about what is going to happen tomorrow. Carpe diem! Carpe noctem! Carpe everything! She once said to Cornelia as they shared a tub of ice cream while sitting on the hills watching the sunset.