Love Letters
It's been ten years. Ten years since Alli's stepped foot into this room. It looks the same, as if she's just gone through a time machine and she's ten years younger. Fifteen again. Oh if only she could go back to those confusing years and try to understand things better. Even now they're still a blur. If only she had asked the right questions. Just thinking about it made Alli start crying. She pulled out her used handkerchief, one Dave had supplied her with earlier, and dabbed at her eyes.
She touched the end of Clare's bed and slowly sat down, as if it pained her to move. She was feeling nostalgic and was thinking that maybe coming up here was a bad idea. There were too many painful memories that she'd much rather avoid. But when she stood up Clare's door opened and Darcy stood there, dressed in black. She was worn out, you could read it on her face, and she had been crying an awful lot more than Alli had.
"Hey Darcy." Alli offered a small smile, but it didn't feel right. Not here. Not now.
"Thanks for coming." Already Darcy was getting chocked up, "I know you didn't know my dad well, but it was really comforting to see you at his funereal."
"Of course I came. He's Clare's dad too."
Darcy nodded her head, "I haven't been up here for awhile. Maybe last year I came in here to look through a couple of things. But I'm glad you finally made it. Nothing's been moved, as you can see. Everything's been put back where it belongs. But I think you should go through some things. Maybe put her to rest?"
It was all too much. Alli didn't like the idea of being in this room, much less going through Clare's things. The Clare she knew. The Clare she loved. The Clare she missed. She was crying again and put her face in her hands. She silently sobbed to herself as memories of her best friend swept over her. She felt Darcy's hand on her, a tight squeeze, then she left and closed the door behind her.
Alli tried to control herself and soon she was sniffling. She got up from the bed and was about to open the door when she glanced at the closet, the white shuttered doors closed. Her hand rested on the knob but she thought better of it and went over to the closet, pulling the doors aside. There were Clare's old clothes, never touched again, hanging from hangers. Above the clothes was a shelf with school books and vampire novels. Alli felt a small pang of sadness. Then she noticed the box.
It was small, no bigger than a microwave, and paper white. On the side in red marker read, "Clare". Alli contemplated the situation. Then leaning on her heels, she reached for the box with her manicured nails. She got it down and walked over to Clare's bed, setting the box down next to her. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs, pulling her dress over her knees. She then softly and gently, as if the box contained a bomb, opened the white box.
Paper. Notebook paper with neat handwriting. A sort of diary? Alli picked up the first paper. A letter. Her eyes grew wide. Clare's letter, in her handwriting. Writing to Eli. She looked back down at the box. There were millions of pages, letters, of Eli and Clare writing back and forth to each other.
Alli gripped the letter and bit on her lip. Could she? Could she really read Clare and Eli's private letters to each other? But then she thought about…..and then she decided she had to read them. Maybe it would explain what had happened so long ago. Alli began to read;
Dear Eli,
A/N: I'm so terrible! I totally left you hanging, but I wanted to see if people were interested? Review and tell me your thoughts!