Dear Leslie, a bridge to terabithia fanfic

Dear Leslie, 9th August, 1998

Pathetic, ain't it? Sitting here in this room where I'm surrounded by geniuses reading up on Monet and DaVinci, and yet I am sitting here ignoring them. I am sitting here, writing this letter to you. Leslie Burke. You. You, who died fifteen years ago today. Yes, that Leslie. Not angel Leslie. The fastest-runner-in-the-fifth-grade Leslie.

You.

Gosh, I'm an idiot, aren't I? I mean, how are you even supposed to read this? Won't it just... Slip through you or something? Cause' you're in heaven, aren't you? Heck, of course you're in heaven. Like the Lord's going to send you to hell. Oh, Leslie. I have to be a hundred percent honest with you. I feel so awful- I would just start crying my eyes out like a complete moron if it weren't for the hundred or so odd folk sitting next to me. You see, Les, I'm in University. Honest-to-God University, Leslie. Huh. Ain't that something? Little old Jess Aarons Jr, getting himself out of Washington State and heading on over to Yale. That's what I did. Do you want to hear about my family? I think this is why I wrote to you in the first place. You see, something awful just happened. I don't know why it happened to us, of all people, but it did.

Am I making any sense? I thought not.

Well, first off, Momma and Dad are still together. They're fine. You know, after you died, it was like something stunning happened. They sat down, and they talked. After Brenda and Ellie and I moved out, they took May Belle and Joyce Ann, and bought themselves a house in Washington D.C. They're all doing real good. Real good. May Belle is already married, can you believe it? Of course, she is in her twenties like me. But doesn't it just seem insane how time goes? One minute, she was playing with those paper dolls. The next, she calls me up and says, 'Hey, Jess. I'm getting married. I'd be awfully glad if you could come.' Oh, my. Her husband is a nice fellow. His name is James, and he has brown hair and brown eyes. He's an accountant. Dad made himself up a joke on their wedding, telling him that... Oh, well. I guess it's really not that funny once you think about it.

I got engaged last Autumn. You won't believe to who.

No, really. Guess.

That's right. Miss Edmunds' niece. She's really wonderful, Leslie. She's a lot like you. I think that's why I love her so much. Oh, Lord. I'm crying now! I feel like a right idiot, you know. Sigh... Her name is Luann and she has black hair, just like Miss Edmunds did. Yeah, you heard me right, Leslie. Did.

That's why I wrote this letter. To tell you of a tragedy in my sad old life. Miss Edmunds died two weeks ago. I went to her funeral. I cried. I didn't cry at your funeral, Leslie. To be honest, I didn't go. Your parents went to Pennsylvania. You got cremated. Lord, that must sound awful. 'Shucks, Leslie! Did you know you got cremated? Oh! No? I thought you'd like to know!'

I cried because I felt I had to. I cried like a total git when you died, just not for a while. I cried after I threw those paints into the creek. It was right awful looking down into that creek, thinking, 'that's where she died.' It was insane. You were in the newspapers, too. Page 17. I remember it like it was yesterday.

10 year-old Leslie Burke drowned today when a rope snapped above a creek. Sources say that she hit her head on a sharp rock. Her mother was distraught when asked for comment, as was much the rest of her family...

Oh, Leslie. I know you probably would be here now, telling me that it's alright to cry. But I'd be so... Stubborn. I'd tell you to drop it, and I'd run away to some far off place. Then I'd cry like a banshee, shoulders shaking, nose blowing. Heck, I'd have to get someone to telephone Noah, and tell him to start gathering two of every animal. But then on second thought, you'd be proud to be in the papers, wouldn't you? And I'm sure if you had a TV, then you would be proud to see that picture up on the fuzzy screen. That picture of your Pennsylvania school photo, with you in the blue and white checkered dress and blue sweater. I remember Judy saying that she wanted you to be respected, no matter how much she appreciated and loved your inside-out T-Shirts and faded jeans. She loved you when you looked... pretty.

Oh! I have to tell you! Bill and Judy are doing wonderfully. They said that your Grandmother was going to tell you something when she got to heaven. Did she? I don't know what they told her, myself. But they sounded sneaky over the phone. I just hope she didn't tell you some embarrassing secret about me. Let me tell you now, Leslie. My closet is sparkling clean. No skeletons here. No, ma'am!

I've already wasted half the paper I was supposed to use for my Shakespeare: Inside MacBeth assignment. But I don't rightly care. You're worth it.

Me and Luann are getting married this Spring, at her old family estate in Washington D.C. Her momma's going to be there, as is her daddy. And mine, too. May Belle and James. And even Brenda and Ellie. In their see-through blouses and old fashioned flowery skirts. We're going to laugh at them. You can laugh too, if you want. That never stopped us before.

Don't you wish that there was some way of writing to family and friends in Heaven? Or, just coming down and whispering in their ear? Heck, I sure do. I wish I could talk to you again. Talk to you about Janice, about Gary... And especially about Terabithia.

I remember Terabithia so well. I didn't tell anyone. Well, anyone except May Belle. I figured you wouldn't mind. I made her princess, then all the Terabithians decided to make her queen. They loved her, Leslie. They would stand on tip-toe to give her flowers and such. Of course, me and her, we had a different view on what they looked like. She thought they were huge, whereas I knew they were small. Like hundreds of little mini Terabithian Thumbelina's.

I wish I could go back with you. Maybe, Leslie...

Maybe a boy and a girl became friends. No, wait... Best friends. They discovered a gully with a bridge over it (that bridge was built by a boy named Jess almost fifteen years ago.) And so they crossed it. And the girl decided to create a special world, all of their own. My, they loved going there. Every day, almost. And they'd pack old coffee tins full of dried fruit and biscuits, and they'd eat. And the girl would tell the boy stories, and the boy would paint. And they'd have the most brilliant place in the whole wide world, just for them. But... But it'd be a secret. A complete and utter secret.

Until one day, something awful happens to the girl. And the boy is left, hankying around until he can finally get some guts to move on. Which isn't long, because the girl creeps down from her place in the sky and gives him a right big kick in the shins for moping. And he gets on with his life...

But he'd always go around with a sense of being incomplete. Cause' there was something he had to tell her. Long, long before that awful thing ever took place.

Leslie Burke, I love you.

Don't get me wrong, I love Luann with all my heart. But you will always be in here somewhere, swinging across that old gully on that old rope. Laughing and teasing and carrying on. And there I'd be, watching you, wide-eyed. Stunned, even. You won't ever leave me, Leslie. Will you? You'll always be here in my heart. In my mind. I don't need you here beside me, when I have you here in me.

My lecturer just had a fit because I was crying so loud and disrupting his class. He even said, 'Mr. Aarons, surely 'Haystacks' isn't something to get so upset over!' People laughed, and I wiped my eyes.

Leslie Burke, I love you, and I always will.

No matter how many times I need to get laughed at. I don't care. I want you to know.

I have to go now, Leslie. Please be happy, like you used to. I don't want to know if you aren't. You should be eating bucketloads of dried apricots, and laughing at what a complete moron I am being in this essay of a letter. Ah, Lord. I guess you get the point now, huh?

And with that, I say goodbye. For real. Me, Jess Aarons. Getting his wings, getting his guts, and saying goodbye. I feel as light as a feather now. Hopefully you do, too.

I love you. Again.

Your friend,

Jess.

(PS: Did you know that Willard Hughes really did like Janice? No kidding! She told me a while after you died. They didn't get married or nothing, they were just good friends. It's insane how such... opposites... can be so pefect for each other, ain't it?)

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Hey, everyone. That's my first Bridge to Terabithia fanfic, and I really hope you liked it. In case you were wondering, it was based upon the book, seeing as I've never seen he movie. Honestly. And I know that Jess doesn't really speak with a southern voice, I just felt like it really fit the idea of the letter.

Ho hum. :)

Thank you for reading, and please review.

xoxo

Nora