Chapter 1

"Are you keeping well?"

No. I am missing you. This town is like a disease, growing and festering. People ask questions about you, where you went, why you left, will you be back. I can't answer their questions because you won't tell me anything.

"I wish you were here with me."

I wish I were with you too. I hate this town; it's empty with out you. But I can't tell you that because you might come back, and if you did that…

The rumors haven't gone away yet; people are still looking for you.

I am thinking of where "here" is and I am wondering if I would like it there. I am wondering if you really want me there with you. I know you do, otherwise you wouldn't be writing me every other day.

"I love you."

Your letters ends like this every time. Like you feel that I need to be reminded. But I don't need to be reminded because that is why you left. You love me. That is why they chased you away, that is why they made you leave.

I need to write you back, but I don't know what to say. The emotions and words I want to give you can't be written down. My words would make you sad. I will write something happy, something untrue. I don't have much time to write, so I begin:

Dear Lawrence,

I sit in my room most days and read the books you recommended earlier this year. My house has been very quiet without your visits, but I am staying out of trouble just as you've asked me to. Your brother wrote to me. He did not say much, just that he hoped you'd be home soon.

The weather is nice here in Blackmoor. Everyone in town is taking full advantage of the clear skies by driving to the park and going for walks. I even took in the warm weather by reading outside today.

I miss you and I wish you'd come home, but I understand that you feel I might get hurt if you were around me. I hope you are feeling all right and I hope you are staying safe.

I love you with all my heart,

Gwen

I fold up my letter and place it in an envelope. My parents are still out so I can take it to the mailbox before the mailman gets here and then I'll wait. Sometime tomorrow you'll open this letter and you'll read my words and, hopefully, you'll think of me and miss me.

I place the letter in our mailbox and go back to my room. I look to my bookshelf for comfort. Most of my books are about vampires and werewolves and ghosts, but the book I am looking for doesn't have an odd title that hides what the story is really about. It doesn't say Twilight or Frostbite. It's very direct because its title is, The Wolfman.

My parents checked my entire room for anything that you might have left me. They were looking for letters and knick-knacks. They never thought to look at the disheveled book that held our story because it was hidden in plain sight, and because it's title was too obvious.

I pull out The Wolfman and tuck it under my arm as I head outside. The sun beats down on me, but I don't mind. It seems fitting that I read about the happiest days of my life while the sun is out.

I open the book you left me and smile. You wrote my name enclosed in a heart before you left on the inside cover. Your handwriting has gotten better since your first entry.

I read the first page.

"Today I spoke to Gwen Conliffe; she's the new girl. She was very quiet, but we spoke for a long time. She's pretty and extremely kind, but I don't think she likes me that much. She seemed aloof around the other students and uninterested with the lessons.

I find her funny. She has such a mysterious smile and cautious eyes, yet she has the oddest sense of humor. She's actually fairly morbid. That's why I find her so funny, because she's dark, but in a sensitive way, if that's even possible.

I think I may be falling for her. I can't stop thinking about her and I remember everything we talked about. It's a bit sad, but I hope she remembers me too."

I do remember that day and it's only because you had been apart of it. I close my eyes and picture the hallways where we walked. I drift off to sleep thinking of you.