The Letters From No One

Rogers was a mere 16 years of age. He dwelled in a run-down cottage passed on to him by his older brother. It was his own, personal fortress of solitude. But then, the diminutive building could hardly be compared to some grand structure.

He'd been marginally managing to muddle through school, with the death of his brother just 2 years prior. Rogers was all alone in the world now, with no one to counsel him and no one to verbalize his frustrations with or share precious moments with. The dark-haired teenager was an orphan who'd been raised in the foster system and subsequently by his brother.

One night, on the anniversary of his brother's death, he found himself incredibly drunk at a club. He met a girl there who was in a near identical state to his own. After the last stars had faded into black, he resolved to ask her to join hands and journey to his home with him. Things went further than he ever intended for them to go and by morning she was lost from sight, never to be laid eyes on again. The whole night had blurred into confusion. He couldn't recall the girl's features. They were distorted in his mind and her name was an even greater mystery. After much rumination on the matter, he opted to never ponder over it again.

Around eight months later, Rogers received a letter addressed, bizarrely enough, to someone christened James. But he was James. He could hardly trust his eyes. He scarcely got letters from anyone. Who would write to him when damn near no one concerned themselves with his existence?

He opened the letter. It read, 'Dear James, I am writing to inform you that our baby girl was born yesterday on the 1st of August. She's still on the ventilator and is being closely monitored but there's hope she'll make a recovery. I hope this letter reaches you in good time, regards, E.G.'

Rogers' eyes steadily began to well up without consent. A baby girl? He had a daughter? But how? Surely not that night. Was this some kind of cruel trick? Was the girl plotting some kind of revenge or was she after something from him? But then, he thought to himself: what if she was telling the truth and he had a baby daughter- a daughter born prematurely, who needed the love of her father? So many questions ran through his mind, more briskly than he could contend with.

He had to find this girl who'd crept into his life, into his bed and had supposedly given birth to his child. He had to be with his daughter somehow. He prayed to God she'd be alright. She was going to make it. She had to. He was a father. He smiled to himself thinking of all that that meant as he pulled on his coat and raced outside. He wasn't completely sure where he was going.

He decided to head to the post office, anticipating that they would somehow know the address or name of the person who'd sent the letter. After hours of waiting and internal contemplation, they informed him that there was simply no way of discerning who the sender was or where it had hailed from. He promptly dashed to the police station and beseeched them to decipher what they could from it. He simply told them that the person it was from might be in grave danger and reminded them of the fact that he was the brother of a once well-respected officer. They gave their word that they'd look into it.

A few days later, Rogers was met by another letter, telling him, in a paragraph, no less, that he'd never find the child or mother and that he should not bother wasting his efforts attempting to do so. This incensed Rogers. Why would this girl enlighten him with the knowledge that she'd borne his child, only to forbid him from ever seeking her? And what was perhaps more unsettling, was the fact that she unfathomably knew he was trying to track her whereabouts? She could have maybe surmised that that'd be his next move, but the letter's subtext suggested she knew exactly what he had done and what he was planning on doing next.

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A week had passed and he'd acquired no answers from the police station. This was in spite of his persistent questions he'd raised to them. He resolved to take matters into his own hands. If the mother of his child knew of his every move, perhaps she was having him watched. He had to take advantage of this. He wrote a letter which said, 'Dear E.G., I fear I don't know who you are and you've no idea how much this is affecting me, or perhaps you do? I want to know, is the baby alright? I only wish to see her. What is her name? Regards, James Rogers. He then proceeded to deposit the letter on his front porch.