The Surprise

The letter came right before I left for Kyle's funeral. As I walked out onto the porch, grumbling about how I would now have to walk the 15 miles to church since no one cares to drive me, I almost stepped on a small barn owl, that was waiting on the top of the steps, almost as if it had been waiting for me. The owl squawked and dropped a letter at my feet before flying away. At this point, I started to freak out. I mean, owls are common over here where I live, but dropping letters, especially ones that have old-fashioned wax seals on them, with an H on it, was over your average experience with owls.

I picked it up cautiously and went inside. As soon as I got to the kitchen I got a knife and sliced the seal open, not wanting to damage the envelope. I looked at the address and it said, Rose Lyming, The Second Bedroom of Kyle Pressman's Log House. Okay. Breathe in. Breathe Out. Okay. A small barn owl dropped off an old style envelope on your porch with the address stating exactly which bedroom you're in and who, excuse me, who had owned the house. This is totally not like those creepy horror books. I mean come on, I was heading to a funeral. I turned on the radio to Foster The People, Pumped Up Kicks. I listened to the lyrics and calmed down. I loved the ingenious of this song. I mean, they figured out a way to make a song promoting gun and bullying awareness catchy, because they knew if it was catchy and had a happy beat, it would catch the attention of everyone, and get the message through. I glanced at the clock to see what time it was.

"Oh shit, it's 12," I stuffed the envelope in my bag and bolted out the door and started sprinting to the graveyard.

I felt everyone's eyes on me as I walked down the aisle, sweaty, dirty, and out of breath, "Doesn't surprise me. She doesn't care about anyone. She's only here to claim the poor boy's house and money," I heard Mrs. Simmons whisper to Ms. Malan as I walked by. Rage and anger fired through my veins, and I marched up to the coffin and stood up in front of everyone. Whispers rippled through the crowd. "Look, it's the maid!", "That's the slut who let him drink himself to the grave, and beat her.", "Ha, look at her. Couldn't even clean up in respect for the poor child."

"Hello, everyone. I know that you all hate me. I hate you too. Well, except for Father Macrilis, you never did anything to upset me," well, on purpose anyway...,"I just need to say that Kyle Pressman was a human being. We all are, we make mistakes. We are not perfect. So, that means we are all at a disadvantage, since we basically start from 90% out of 100%, like a late assignment. So, we are all sinners. You all either think I made Kyle commit suicide, or that I'm a supernatural being who killed him. Of course I'm going to say no, because well I loved him, and he loved me. He told me that we were going to leave all of you psychopaths and just be free. Free," at this point I felt tears rolling down my oily, but porcelain pale skin, "So, I would like to say that I hate you all. I'm not selling the log house. I'm not going to work. I'm going to school, to free myself. Now, if you any of you have something to say to me, speak now. Oh, yeah , you're had been cheating on you with your pool boy for about three years now."At this, I knelt before Kyle's coffin and kissed his cold forehead, tears streaming down my face and onto his shirt. I whispered I love you for the final time and walked out the church, certain that from this day forward, my life would change.

Hi there writer here, just here. I'm really excited for this, so yeah… I really try to update often, but I'm usually late… so if you like it, could you PLEASE message me?

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DISCLAIMER!-I do not the Harry Potter book or movie series.

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