I look down at the envelpoe, which was shaking due to my quivering hands. The fancy wax seal on the front indicates that the letter was from London University, the college to which I had applied to. The question is, was this a letter of acceptance or denial?
"Are you going to open the damn envelope, or not Tessie? I haven't got all day!" said my drunken brother, Nate. A bottle of vodka swung loosely from his hand as he bent over my shoulder to look as my shaking hands ripped the seal. I read the letter. I was accepted. "Well?" slurred Nate. He took the letter from me and looked it over. "Congrats Tessie! Now you can finally move out. Start packing! You leave tomorrow according to the letter." He says, and stumbles out of the room.
I sit there in shock. Was this a dream or reality? How could a poor girl like me get into a pristiege college like this on full scholarship? I slip the letter into my worn out jeans pocket and go upstairs to pack.
I put all of my clothes into my suitcase. I don't have very many clothes, (which means I'll have to go shopping in London), so I fill up the the rest of the space I have with books.
My library is small. It consists of six books. A Tale of Two Cities, Sense and Sensibility, Jane Eyre, Of Mice and Men, Wuthering Heights, and Vathek. My friend, Will Herondale, gave Vathek to me before he moved to London. He had written a poem on the inside of the cover.
The poem read, 'Caliph Vathek and his dark horde/Are bound for Hell, you won't be bored!/Your faith in me will be restored-/Unless this token you find untoward/And my poor gift you have ignored.' The poem had made me laugh. Vathek is one of my favorite books, besides A Tale of Two Cities. I locked my suitcase and put it beside my door. I walk back and flop down on my bed. I never had a phone, so I don't have a way to keep contact with Will, therefore we haven't talked since he moved away when we were young. He was seven and I was six. I still remember the day he left.
It was a cold and rainy day. I geuss the weather was appropriate for today because it was a sad day. Today, my best friend was moving away. I sit beside him now, his big hand holding my tiny one. "I'm going to miss you Will." I say with tears in my eyes. "I'm going to miss you too, Tess." He says. I engulf him in a hug. He wraps his hands around my shoulder blades and hugs me back. "Will! Honey, it's time to say goodbye!" His mom yells from downstairs. I hug him even tighter and let out a sob. "D-don't leave m-me!" I squeak. He gives me a kiss on the top of my head. He tries to let go but I squeeze tighter. "Tess, you have to let go. I don't want to go, but I have to. I got you something to remember me. Look under your pillow tonight and it'll be there. Now come downstairs with me, I have a suprise." I let go of him and grab his hand as we walked downstairs. We got downstais and his mother took a photo of us holding hands. "We'll send the picture to you when we get to our new house." said Mrs. Herondale. I almost started to cry again, but I quickly looked at the ceiling light and the tears went away. I hate to cry. Will and I walked through the parlor and out to his mom's car. Will bent down and gave a kiss on the cheek. He reached over and grabbed something from the seat beside him. He grabbed my hand one last time. Something cold was pressed between my palm and his. I grabbed the cool object and put it in my pocket. I reached up and gave a kiss on the cheek. "Even though you're leaving me, remember, I'll always be your Tess." I say, my voice quivering. "You'll always be my brave Tess. Be strong, like Bodecia." Said Will. I knew who Bodecia was. Will had read stories about her to me. He shut the door, giving me one last sad gaze, and he drove away from me, my heart leaving with him.
The object that he had given me by his car was a necklace. There was a singular charm on the necklace. The charm was a clockwork angel, about the size of my pinky finger. The small wings are made out of tiny cogs, and it ticked softly like a watch.
The night when Will left, I had hurried upstairs and threw my pillow off of my bed to discover my very own copy of William Beckford's Vathek.
I had opened the cover and laughed at the poem Will had scrawled on it. Then I felt emptiness and sadness gnawing at my heart because I would never hear his silly poems or songs again. His mother had kept her word and I had gotten the picture of Will and I three days later, his blue eyes blazing and my gray ones glistening.
I sigh and sit up on my bed. I need to sleep. It's twelve in the morning and I haven't had a moment of sleep. I head to the bathroom and grab some NyQuil from the shelf. I down half a shot glass and head to my room. I lay there for about fifteen minutes and start to feel the NyQuil kick in. I turn over on my side and fall fast asleep.