The Letter

The beginning of the end of the world didn't begin until Connie decided to cease her existence amongst New York City. Up until then, she woke up telling herself that today was going to be a great sunny day (Well, as possible as it could be saying it was raining like God's revenge, and her mom and dad were going on their fifteenth day not talking, and Nico had just decided that it would be okay to just disappear off the earth for the last three days). But happy day it would be.

Too bad that the unrealistic dream got burned to ground in the first thirty seconds of her day. Great day, right?

She had woken up with the sound of a window slam. She raised her head with an immediate bolt. Of course, she told herself, it was probably a dream, but yet the sound continued to ring in her ears tauntingly. She got up slowly, glancing at the closed window suspiciously, and walked toward her bedroom door.

Her eyes gave an apprehensive glare at the knob. She stared at it, sighed, tried to think of three reasons why she should turn it, couldn't even come up with one, but then rested her fingers on it anyways and turned it with her fingers. It sprung back at her.

Locked.

At first, the optimistic voice in her mind told her it was a sign from God and if she didn't go back to bed that exact instant (like this sign was implying) then the zombie apocalypse that she has been predicting since she was three would finally happen and she would be the first person to be eaten. You know, the realistic idea.

Heh, she laughed to herself, if she didn't hear one of her sisters breathing on the outside she may just have gotten herself to believe it.

"HAILEY!" She roared hoarsely, "God, could you let me out?" Because I'm not going to fight for this for too much longer.

"What did you say?" The annoying thirteen year old squeeked, "I couldn't hear you!" Her eyes narrowed at the door.

"Hailey, I'm trying to be nice here…" Connie told her softly, "Open the door. Now."

"Constance, I seriously can't hear you." Connie peaked outside the crack and stared at her. The demon was smiling. Smiling.

"One," Connie said flatly. She saw Hailey's face shallow down.

"Wait, just give me a minute-"

"I'm telling dad."

"WHAT?" Her sister yelled desperately, "WHAT HAPPENED TO TWO?"

"Two."

"Constance-"

"Open the door, Hailey."

"Just hold on for three seconds-"

"DA-" Connie's voice was only half way through the word when Hailey slammed open the door and cuffed her mouth.

There was a heavy silence where both of them stared at each other wildly. Hailey's baby blue eyes stared into Connie's, and Connie glared at her suspiciously. Something was shining in Hailey's eyes that threw Connie off balance. Despite Hailey's radical attempts to conceal her, Hailey didn't stop Connie from removing her fingers from her mouth.

"What do you think you're doing?" Connie asked slowly, her eyes narrowing at her sister. Her sister was an early bird – She already had her ten pounds of make up on, the special five-hundred-dollar-outfit that Connie clearly mocked with her eyes, the look that showed that Hailey would never be on the same level Connie was. She was everything Connie never would or could be. The perfect blonde hair, the delicious blue eyes, the curvy-vintage body. And Connie wasn't sure she exactly wanted it.

"Jeeze," Hailey said dramatically, recovering from her outbreak quickly "I was just joking. I didn't know you'd take it so serio-"

"It's seven o'clock in the morning Hailey. What are you hiding?" She snapped. Hailey crossed her arms.

"I just wanted to say good morning," Hailey said crossly, "Is that so hard to believe?" Connie didn't hesitate.

"Yes. It is." Their glare continued.

"Fine," Hailey blurted stubbornly. Connie waited for her body to storm out of the way for a dramatic exit, but Hailey stood still. Hailey was trying hard not to look at her, as if there was something she didn't want Connie to notice. But Connie noticed quite quickly.

"Do you mind moving? My clothes are in the laundry room." Connie asked sharply. Hailey's eyes flickered to the ground and the back at her.

"Yes, yes I do," Hailey told her coolly. Connie's eyes narrowed at her, and shoved her away from her doorway like a light puppy. Connie headed down the stairs quickly.

"NO! WAIT! CONSTANCE!" Hailey's voice projected as she ran down the stairs to stop her, but Connie ignored her "You don't need to go to the laundry room! Your clothes are in the car?" Connie swerved around abruptly, taking Hailey by surprise.

"Why in the bloody god would you put my school clothes in the car?" Connie asked sharply. Hailey took a step back.

"I—It's just—I had to get a dry-cleaned," She stumbled, "Me and mom got it dry-cleaned yesterday." Connie's eyebrows elevated.

"And you left it in the car?" Connie asked her, "Where it can get wrinkled?" Hailey hesitated.

"I don't know, I forgot to bring it in," Hailey swore to her. Connie took a step closer to her.

"Spit it out, Hailey," Connie hissed at her coolly, "You're digging yourself into a hole." Hailey's face drained.

"It's just—I-" She was done with this. She stomped away from Hailey's grip and headed down the hall. Past the kitchen. Past the living room. And almost passed her dad's office when she heard a light giddy sound. A giddy, unnecessary sound in his office. At first, she didn't recognize it, but then her heart skipped a beat.

Giggling. She heard giggling in her dad's office. Giggling. Her mother didn't even smile, let alone giggling.

At first, Connie's eyes could only widen, but then anger overthrew her because immediately she knew who it was that was giggling. Anger, disappointment, hatred, all three, seemed to pollute her body like drugs. She hated him, she realized harshly, doing this when her mother was only a few stairs away? It disgusted her. What would happen, she wondered, if she opened that door right now? Would they be ashamed for their sins they were committing? Would her dad beg on his knees for forgiveness and spoil her in gifts until she agreed not to tell her mother? Would he even deserve it, or is he such a pitiful creature that he didn't even deserve the shame?

She felt a cold hand interrupt her thoughts. She almost forgot that her sister, who seemed so small to her now, was right beside her. Hailey was shaking her head at her with sad eyes. She must've read her thoughts perfectly.

"It'll just make you feel worse," She whispered feebly. Instantly, tears started to burn at the back of her eyes. She didn't know why – She never liked her dad, he wasn't worth her tears, but the realization came quickly. It was Hailey. She was crying for her. Because Hailey was too young to have to put up with this. She shouldn't know about her dad's affairs. She should be worrying about regular thirteen year old stupid things – boys, evil teachers, back-stabbing friends. Not this. Never this.

And yet, it was like, Hailey was trying to protect her. To make her sleep in just for a few minutes longer, so that she wouldn't have to know about her dad's secret mistress. Her grey eyes connected with Hailey's perfect blue. Only if she knew that Constance has known since forever…But she couldn't let this happen to Hailey. She needed Hailey to forget.

"Go to school," Connie heard herself demand abruptly. Hailey stood there numbly.

"Go on," Connie told her, harshly now, "Go get your bag." Hailey stuttered.

"What about you?" Hailey repeated as she reluctantly got her backpack, "Aren't you…coming?"

"I'll walk you," Connie answered shortly. Connie walked past her, toward the door, but Hailey was frozen.

"But what about your backpack?" Hailey asked feebly. Connie's mouth gaped. How was she to explain this to her?

"You have to go to school too," She whispered. Hailey's voice resembled a girl who has been hurt too much. Like she was five years old reliving her entire past.

"Hailey, come on, it's almost-"

"Constance, you have to go to school. You can't just-" But Connie already made up her mind.

"Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. You have a science test today, don't you?" Connie guessed, "Get out before you get late." But the look Hailey gave her was horrifying. It was like Hailey was looking a million miles away, like she actually needed her.

"You don't need to walk me to school," Hailey answered, her voice coming back, "But Constance?" Connie didn't reply as Hailey opened the door without her and stood at the doormat.

"Don't do anything stupid," Hailey told her shortly, and slammed the door straight in her face. Connie stood there for a moment, completely stricken by the events. It wasn't the four words that shocked her – It was the look. That horrible, vulnerable look that reflected into her once-strong little sister's eyes that nearly killed her. But she knew what she was going to do.

It took her ten minutes to remove herself from the doormat, and finally head to her room. She skidded straight to her closet, pulling out everything that would keep her for two weeks; clothes, a tooth brush, other pointless things. Her brain was already racing with a game plan. And nobody would ever find her. Her parents would try finding her for a few days, of course, but would hate their pitiful reputation ruined and they would forget about her like a lesbian in a religious family. And by the end of those two weeks, she would find some sort've job at some sketchy coffee shop in Bronx. She would live with Nico, in a tree, the only place she had ever felt whole.

Yes, it was stupid and melodramatic, but she didn't belong here. She couldn't watch her sisters break and tape themselves up again. She couldn't live with her father, a scummy hypocrite of his words. She couldn't deal with the woman who gave birth to her, a mother who was rarely home. She was never meant to be here at all. And maybe, just maybe, Hailey would one day forgive her.

She wrapped everything up in a backpack, and landed it on her bed one last time. She slammed open her drawer, trying to find an old cell phone that her parents probably didn't even know the number of, but then found something quite different. A ring.

She had many rings, a thousand of them, but this one was different. It was thick and silver, like it was made for a man, with a skull on top. If somebody glanced at it, it looked rough and possibly cheap, but when a person truly looked at they would notice it was old. A few generations at the least. No, it wasn't her father's, he would never wear anything with no jems, but she wouldn't be surprised if it was a ring that was only passed down. So why did she have it? It wasn't hers. Was it one of her sisters'? Her eyebrows arched together, partially confused and partially intrigued. Attached to it was a note. Her eyes widened. She lifted it up to her face, horror rumbling in her tummy. The writing was scratchy and curved, as if the writer hadn't wrote much in their life.

I am sorry.

Her eyes widened.

"No…" She whispered, "No…This…" She knew now that the window she heard slamming closed was truly a window. If only she saw it earlier, woke up just two seconds before, she would've fixed this all. Because somehow she already knew who it was.

She grabbed her backpack, roughly folding the note in half, slipping the large ring on her thumb, stuffing the crapload of cash that her father had always given her but yet she never used, and ran out. Her feet prodded down the dirty streets, her mind losing herself in a cold memory that would haunt her for the rest of her life. And yet, it seemed like it was a million years ago in her eyes.

The memory of Nico replaced in her mind for weeks after their first encounter. She didn't have the nerve to go back so quickly, but there wasn't a day that didn't think about him. The boy seemed to strike her with fascination, something a boy had never done to her. She even started to walk by Manhattan Park on the way to school, just to see if she could see a glance of the homeless boy, but she was never close enough to see. For all she knew, the Boy in the Tree never existed.

She didn't believe in hope, but all that didn't stop her from trying to see him again. Her life seemed to disappear behind her whenever she thought of the mysterious boy, and she didn't know if she liked that or not. But it wasn't until the day that she realized she was just as homeless as him did she see him again.

She didn't go that day though. It was raining, and the memory of the short encounter seemed like a childish dream. She had mentioned it to her friends once, but they either didn't believe that the "Beautiful Football Player" could hurt her or they just didn't care. Probably both. She was walking with them though, and of course, they wanted Starbucks. They had walked in proudly, flashing themselves like models while Connie followed behind invisibly. So invisible that her dad didn't even see her. She was going to go up to him, ask him why he wasn't working. He usually left early because, he would always tell her, he wanted to be the first person in the office. Well, he wasn't at the office must've been having an early meeting with one of his clients – a classy woman, she noticed.

She walked halfway through the overly populated line, but then she saw where his hands were placed. It was then that she knew. A part of her was shocked, but not surprised. Never surprised. It made sense really – Her mother was with him for money, and her dad was with her because she was beautiful. But he didn't love her, and she didn't love him. Everything in her life was just a show. But it was pitiful. Sickening.

Maybe it was just a friend, she told herself, maybe he didn't really love her at all.

But yet the image flashed in her mind over and over, and suddenly she found herself running out the door. Far away from the Starbucks, farther away from her school, long gone from her home. She didn't know where she was running to, nor did she care, until she found herself in Manhattan Park. She collapsed against a tree and sobbed. Sobbed and sobbed until she heard somebody clear their throat. Stopping abruptly, she looked above her and finally noticed what tree she stopped by.

It was Nico. Her eyes widened, with her face blushing. Oh god, she thought to herself, he must've thought she was running to him on purpose. She probably looked like a victim now. Like she wasn't strong. First needing his help so she wouldn't get raped, and now sobbing over something that didn't matter in her world?

But he leaped across the branches and outstretched his hand. She took it.

The memory seemed to fog her brain and she found herself in Manhattan Park in no time. She stopped running and went to a casual pace; trying not to attract attention she didn't want. She looked across the courtyard, and it seemed…empty. Why did it seem so suddenly empty? The same amount of people were there, the same level of noise, the atmosphere was just as blue. She grew closer and she realized that…The tree was gone. Her head whipped back and forth, making sure she wasn't just at the wrong end, but no…

It was just gone. No tree. At all. It was just a pile of grass. Her eyes widened. How was this?, She asked to herself.

It couldn't have happened overnight. No, it couldn't, or else everybody would be talking about it. The ancient, wide willow-tree? It was huge. People would've been talking about it. And yet it just disappeared. The grass underneath was already grown, as if it had been there just as long as every other patches of grass. Nobody else was looking at it, whispering to the person next to them. It was like they never knew it was there at all. As if it never existed.

Was she going nuts?

Her hand pulled her hair in frustration and stared at the blind spot as nausea filled her stomach. No, it wasn't there, she wasn't hallucinating. But then a shock hit her, even worse than being nuts. That meant…That meant Nico wasn't there anymore. Her breath shook. What was going on?

No, she told herself sternly, she couldn't give up. She could do this – She just had to find him. He had to be in some new tree somewhere – Probably not too far away. But she could find him. She was a survivor, she was good at this.

She was even trying to wrench herself for another plan. Where to find him, how to find him, until somebody interrupted the relieving silence.

"What the-" Somebody's voice projected angrily like a wave, "Damn him! Damn-" Connie redirected her eyes to the voice, coming not too far away from the place she was staring at. Everybody else was staring a thousand miles away from him, but his eyes lay directly where the tree was supposed to be. He noticed too.

"'Oh, its okay, you'll do fine! Just be careful because he recently found a way to damn the living!'" She heard him mimic bitterly as she slowly approached, "WELL THANKS PERCY! GREAT WARNING! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME HE COULD DAMN A BLOODY TWENTY FOOT ANCIENT WILLOW TREE IN THE MIDDLE OF MANHATTAN PARK!" She sucked in her breath and approached quicker. He knew something, she realized, she didn't understand what but she knew he knew something. She stopped about five feet away, staring at him timidly. She let him blow up a little more, his voice growing lower and lower until the only evidence of his anger was only his shaking hands.

She could've cleared her throat like a polite lady, as her mother would. She could've approached him more concealed, like her father would. She could've put on a friendly face and asked him if he was okay, like Hailey would.

But instead, she said as loudly as she dared as she walked near him, "You're looking for Nico, aren't you?" There was no hint of kindness in her voice. His head jotted towards her, anger still flaming his eyes. She didn't flinch, but her face did drain.

His eyes softened when he saw her grimace and said tightly, "Yes. I am. You know him?" He said it was a shocking tone, as if she wasn't pretty enough or something. She flushed.

"Yes, I've known him for the last year. Why?" She asked harshly. His face of shock didn't go away.

"We're talking about the same guy right? Fifteen-Sixteen, shaggy hair, kinda creepy?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Who are you? His brother?" It was a stretchy thought, but she couldn't help but see the resemblance. The boy she was looking had a squarish body, and not near as tall. His hair was a curly blonde fluff, unlike Nico's black wave, and unlike having black eyes like Nico's he was wearing bright purple contacts. But there was a glint in his eye, alike to what she saw in Nico's. Like he was different, just like him.

But his face turned all scrunchy again.

"No!" He barked, "God, that would-" He must've seen the death-like look on Connie's face because he stopped abruptly.

"I'm just looking for him, alright?" He told her lightly, his face flattening out "No need to worry, sweetheart." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah? And you didn't think of doing that for the last year?" She asked him sharply just as he was about to turn away, "You know he's been living in a tree, right? For ages!" He frowned.

"Yes, I did thank-you-very-much."

"And you're the reason he ran away again? Left the only thing he found as a home?" The boy stepped near her dangerously.

"He had a home," He shot back harshly, "His own house all by himself, actually. Perfectly fine."

"Yeah, then why did he leave?" Connie continued, "Who forced him out?" He threw his hands in the air angrily.

"Nobody forced him out! He chose to himself! He's Nico di Angelo!" Connie choked on her breath when she heard his last name. For some reason, she just never pictured his last name. He was so unusual, so mysterious, so unlike anybody else, she could never really imagine him with one.

"Just forget about him alright!" The boy waved her off angrily, turning on his heel, "No offense, but you obviously can't help me."

"B—But I'm his friend," Her voice said in a whisper-like-tone. He saluted her insultingly as he kept on. An anger rose in her.

"I talked to him every day!" She yelled as he grew away faster, "I care about him!" His feet kept walking.

"WHAT IF I SAID HE WAS IN LOVE WITH ME?" She blurted. Her face flushed instantly, suddenly not trusting her tongue. Did he? Was he? Could he? He stopped suddenly, and turned his head.

"Well, then I'd say you better come with me, sweetheart."