Moon Girl

Thirty Six - Krystal's Letter

Silence rested over Krystal and her family in their home. It was early but no one was out of bed or even awake. The sun still peaked through, refusing to sleep in, but everyone else slept in anyways. Krystal seemed to be the only exception. After 7:45 she was wide awake.

An alarm went off at 8:30 from her parents room. That had been the only sound through the morning, with that, the house came alive. It wasn't until 9:15 that Mr. Kamowski knocked on his daughter's door.
"You awake?" He peaked his head in. "Oh, you're reading." Krystals eyes flicked up from her book. "And Nicolas Sparks, no less." A light blush covered her cheeks.
"Just missing Nancy. She was always so into these." She waved the book in the air. Mr. Kamowski noticed her choice of pajamas. It made him smile as he started to leave. "Dad?" Her father turned back into her room. "Can I talk to you?" She slid the bookmark into her sisters old book.
"What's up kiddo?" He sat at the foot of her bed.
"I think you've figured out that I like Blake." He chuckled and nodded his head. "I don't know what to do. He's my best friend, well honestly, my only friend. I don't want to lose him but I don't want to feel like this forever." She gestured at her stomach. "It's like a storm of butterflies!"
"Krystal, as your father it is my job to want you to be small forever, for you to never grow up, but without me even noticing you've already done that." A sad smile washed over his face. "Our feelings can be terrifying; they're messy and unfortunately not in our control. With that being said, they are what compels us to do things. Listen to me, it's scary, I know. If Blake is half the man he's supposed to be, he already knows how wonderful you are and loved you just as much as we do." Krystal took in all the words floating around them.
"And if he doesn't?" She finally asked.
"Then he is the one losing something, not you. It may not seem that way at first, but it's true and in time that will come to light. But I don't think that's the case." Krystal pushed back the covers and crawled over to her dad and hugged him. They sat like that for a long time. "Come on, let's go see Oma." Pulling back from him, she grabbed the book.
"Let me finish my chapter first." Her father hummed in agreement.

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Late in the morning Blake trudged up to his room. Both sisters gave him a weird look. They looked almost giddy.
"What's with you two?" He eyed them suspiciously.
"You didn't sleep in your room last night." Gabriel commented with a smile. Hannah leaned into her.
"I slept in the movie room, weirdo." He grumbled.
"Sure you weren't with your girlfriend?" Hannah rocked on her feet with a teasing grin. Blake stopped a few steps from the top.
"No, I was in the movie room, like I said. Ask dad if you want. Also, I don't have a girlfriend." The two girls lost their heads in laughter but left him alone.

Why do they think I have a girlfriend? I would gladly date Krystal, but that's just not going to happen. She probably doesn't even feel the same.

Blake swung his bedroom door open and trooped in. Exhaustion still tugged at his eyes. Just as he was about to flop onto his bed, something caught his eye. It was a white envelope with his name on it. He recognized that handwriting anywhere. Quickly grabbing it, sleep was forgotten as he unfolded the letter.

Dear Blake,
I've never written one of these before, so bare with me. Not letters, I've written a lot of those, I meant this kind of letter. I've been going to visit Oma K often (don't worry, she asks about you all the time.) She told me that whenever she would lose a friend, she would write them a letter, telling them all the things she wish she had when they were alive. I thought it was silly, but I decided to do it anyways. After what felt like forever, I finished a letter to both Nancy and my Opa. I understand why she writes them now. She said she doesn't leave much unsaid in life so her letter in sure weren't nearly as long. When I went to visit her next I ask how to talk to people better, to let them in. I wanted to know if it worked the same for the living. She said she'd never written a letter like this to someone who's still alive, so I thought I'd do my own experiment. My grandma says she just tells people her thoughts and feelings, but I'm not that bold. This is my letter, to the living. Well, it's my letter to you (not that you're not living, but you know what I mean). My parents already read my diary (which I now end with "hi mom and dad" those nosey people). You were the only person I had left to write to. I would write to Oma but she says we've already talked about everything. So, hi Blake. Let me start of by saying thank you, you've already read this far and possible rolled your eyes a time or two. Lord knows I have. Also, thank you for being my best friend and pushing your way into my life. I'm forever grateful for that and you. You've shown me how to live again, I didn't know that was possible after losing so much of yourself. I thought you just slowly died with the people you love. I've come to realize you learn to live carrying on their legacy. You just texted me asking if I've left my house yet, I have to hurry this up! I know I haven't always been the easiest person to be around and my life is sort of full of secrets, but you're always there. No matter the secret or how hard the day is, I appreciate that. I appreciate you in more ways than I could ever write. I think you're the blame for my success as of late, Blake Hardy. My family, I'm sure, thanks you for bringing me back to life. You truly are a hero (don't let that got to your head!) At any rate, I think that about sums it up for me. Thank you for everything and thank you for being my friend, my rock and my hero. See you soon.
Signing off; your girl from the moon,
Krystal

Blake had a wide grin plastered on his face as he read the letter over and over again. His favorite part was the ending, 'your girl' specifically.

Do I write her a letter back or call her? You know what, she wrote me a letter, I should write her a letter. It's only fair.

That's exactly what Blake did. He grabbed a pen and lots of paper and started what would probably be classified as a novel. Ignoring his hunger for breakfast, he powered through.

When Blake finally made his way into the kitchen for breakfast he took one of their endless supply of envelopes and jumped up to his room. He addressed it Krystal and kept it tucked away. He would go to school early tomorrow to slip it in her locker.

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Oma had made liver paste sandwiches, they were Krystals least favorite but her dads favorite so she choked them down. As a German girl, she was expected to enjoy strange foods like that. She had more of her mother's taste palette. Nancy liked more German foods.

Krystal made her way to the living room and flipped through the photo albums. She smiled watching not only herself but her sister grow between photos.

Oma came in briefly to grab her glasses so she could help her son make desert.
"So honey," Oma whispered. "Did you write that letter." Krystal hummed in agreement.
"I did, now we just wait for a response." The reminder of the letter made her check her phone. A text from Blake, but nothing about the letter. It was a normal conversation about normal things.

The trio are cookies and Krystals father told stories of his childhood. They laugh as Oma refused to believe have the stories.

I never realized how much like my dad I really am.

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Sunday moved slowly. The minutes felt like hours. Anxieties rising on both ends.

We've been texting all day and he hasn't said a single thing about the letter. He doesn't seem any different. Maybe he didn't see it? It was laying on his pillow. He'd be blind not to see it! Maybe he doesn't know what to say? They say men aren't very good with words. Maybe to him it was a read it and done?

Tomorrow. The letter goes in her locker tomorrow. Everything can change; tomorrow. It's such a simple word. Just a day. Buts it's not. It's a future, a promise of things to come. Tomorrow.

The conversation flowed like normal between the pair. It was like nothing was different or changing. A cloud of anxieties hung over Krystal and Blake both.