Letters

8

----M----

June 18, 2007

Matt took a deep breath and exhaled, a vague prayer leaving his lips with wisps of cigarette smoke. His fingers hovered restlessly over the keyboard, the screen lit up with the Wammy's House homepage. It'd been a year since he'd learned the truth, and it was shaming to admit that he'd spent that year trying to run from it. Sure, he'd made contact with Near, and then spent the rest of his time searching for Mello, but that plan had clearly backfired. A wave of bitterness surged over Matt; he'd always looked like he was doing something worthwhile, like he had some legitimate excuse to hide from Wammy's, even when there was no excuse.

Here, now, though… it was a different game. Hacking straight into his own heart of darkness, his own wilderness where people actually devolved while pushing progress forward, Matt wondered grimly what he would find this time. Another story of eternal pain and skewed justice? Matt shook his head. It was hard to imagine Mello as some kind of victim in such a manufactured divine comedy. Matt hesitated on the threshold, waiting to cross over with the push of a single button. Dante's prose floated to the surface of his mind like a bloated corpse rolled over for police identification in an isolated mountain lake.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here. Ironic how the enter key was also labeled return.

Matt entered his hacking system and returned to Wammy's through its computer network with one keystroke. His fingers became a blur then, activating his homemade programs to counteract Wammy-originated ones that tried to lock him out, while he simultaneously searched for keyword: Mello.

With 1,206 hits, Matt braced himself and began scanning titles. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but felt he would know it when he saw it. It was likely to be similar to Peter's pages, yet older. He switched the search to list by date, skipping back ten pages and a few years to 2004, going backwards. His green eyes sped over the searches, while his fingers never slowed. Next page. It scrolled down automatically, the words nearly blurring together. Still nothing caught his attention. Next page, the process starting again.

A few chirps from his computer alerted him to a new threat and he enlarged the window to one of his defense programs. Someone was trying to hack him in retaliation? Matt nearly snorted at the impossibility of that goal, his eyes following the lines of code his adversary was inputting. He had to admit it was good, but nowhere near good enough. His lips stretched into a tight smile; knowing the other hacker couldn't touch him, he let his opponent flounder around while he continued searching Wammy's server. It would keep the idiot occupied and online, which was all Matt needed. The only thing that could shut him out would be for Wammy's to go into lock-down mode and cease communications with the rest of the web.

Matt quickly switched back to scanning titles and his eyes seemed to land right on the document he knew he'd been looking for. The last access date, November 4th, matched Peter's, as these kinds of files had only been accessed by Wammy. He doubleclicked, his heart pounding.

Mihael Keehl, aka Mello. Matt read it several times over, mesmerized. Mihael. He said it to himself, wondering how to pronounce it… Mello's true name. A wave of giddiness hit him without warning. Matt knew Mello's real name. It was… impossible, and yet, he knew. Suddenly realizing he'd been spacing out for several seconds, Matt started the file download.

He felt almost like a cheater, but then remembered that Mello had set him up the day before. Mello—no, Mihael—deserved this. Hell, it might even be for his own good, Matt thought vehemently.

Another chime went off, and Matt watched as the torrent cut off halfway.

"Shit," he breathed. Wammy's was offline and he was locked out. Matt sat back and stretched his fingers, breathing out a sigh.

A moment passed in complete silence before Matt sat up straight, a smile twitching into place on his face. There was a bright side; Matt now had half of Mello's hidden information on his hard drive, waiting for him to sift through. The bastard deserved it, Matt reminded himself merrily, and really, he should be thankful it was Matt who was doing the hacking…

…because at least Matt would keep his deepest secrets safe.

----M----

"I am such a haunted soul

Your ghost has gone to bed

It's all cold.

Don't wake me up

I am still dreaming

The story's undone

Unravel at the seams."

----M----

November 21, 1998

Matt yawned and paused Link's quest to push his goggles up and wipe his eyes. He was nearing the final battle on Tal Tal Mountain, but it was also nearing four in the morning. He'd gotten the Game Boy Color with Link's Awakening as a present from Wammy earlier that month, but with his studies so intense, the only times he could play were also his sleeping hours.

He yawned again, glancing down at the Link-shaped group of pixels through bleary eyes. It was probably time to go to sleep… the Wind Fish would have to wait. The lavatory, however, could not. Matt sighed, not wanting to walk down the hall in the middle of the night. He had slippers, but it would still be cold.

Matt saved his game and shut it off, standing up to stretch a little and pull his goggles down around his neck so he could wipe his eyes again. Plucking up his key, he stepped into the hallway, moonlight streaming through the upper windows onto the carpet.

His gaze followed the bleached patterns of light, hitting upon something irregular.

"Hey kid," the girl said as Matt recognized her. She seemed paler in the moonlight, and Matt felt a wave of vertigo overtake him but it passed quickly, although his heart managed to continue to rocket around in his chest. What did that kind of reaction mean? The girl moved closer, becoming more vibrant as she did so, as if her coloring brightened with her proximity. Or perhaps Matt's eyes were simply adjusting to the glare of the moonlight.

"Too shy to say hi?" she asked, leaning down to Matt's level once she was close enough. Her hair swung around her head and fell off her shoulders to sway in front of him. Matt found himself utterly tongue-tied, a small voice in his head asking whether this meant he was in love. Her eyes were grey-green with long lashes and with carefully shaped eyebrows arcing gracefully over them. She was terribly beautiful….

"That's alright," she said smiling. Her face radiant, she pulled back to lean against the wall near his door. His eyes drawn to her far-away look, Matt noticed only in passing that she was wearing the same paint-splashed white shirt. "I know what that's like."

Matt was unable to believe the teenager before him, her confidence and appeal far too strong. The words left Matt before he had time to register them. "But you're so pretty!"

"Oh? So you can speak." The girl laughed, a silky tremble that vibrated in her throat.

Matt blushed against his will and hoped she couldn't see as well as he could in the dark. "I…" he began before realizing that he had no idea what he wanted to say.

She turned to look down at him anyway, a bemused smile on her face. Her attention was suddenly focused on him alone. "You really are a good kid, though, aren't you."

Matt felt his throat start to close, as he tried to come up with a way to speak in the presence of her intimidating loveliness. His sentence came out in a rush, sounding more like a single word that he was afraid wouldn't make it past his throat. "Could-you-tell-me-your-name-please-miss?"

There was a slight pause in which Matt felt horribly embarrassed. Had she even been able to understand his pathetic attempt at speaking to her? Surely she would think him an idiot now. But then came the tinkle of her laughter, like silver wind chimes, and she came over to him again. She lowered herself down into a squat so that her ethereal face was level with his own, their eyes meeting directly without the usual protection of his goggles.

"You can call me this…" she said quietly, bringing her hands to cup gently either side of his face. Her fingers were smooth, cool, and light on his burning cheeks. Carefully she pulled Matt closer, until she could place a feathery kiss on the top of his auburn head.

Matt held himself utterly still. He was confused, but at the moment, confusion didn't bother him. He was more occupied with the giddy emotion in the pit of his stomach that seemed to decrease his oxygen intake. She had kissed him. He knew he probably looked like an idiot with a huge grin plastered across his face, but he couldn't stop himself. The girl released him slowly with a faint smile and then stood, turning to walk back down the hallway. The moonlight caressed her faded jeans, and she became pale again, an ephemeral wraith of beauty, even though the reflections off her hair triggered his eyes into watering. She paused at the same door she had been at the first time Matt had seen her. She placed her forehead against the wood, the entire surface moonlit in silver. In profile, Matt could still see the color reflected in one of her eyes, giving her a look distant from the current time and place. Her voice carried over to him like a sigh and Matt knew she wasn't really addressing the small redheaded boy behind her.

"Do you think Jiwon will ever notice me?"

Matt swallowed, unsure whether he could respond or even whether a response would be appropriate. The small hairs on his arms suddenly prickled and his palms began to sweat. Matt wiped his hands on his pyjamas, and looked down to the more relaxing darkness. He wiped his eyes free of tears, before pulling his goggles on, hoping the small act would buy him some time to think. Of course, nothing popped into his head—what could someone like him offer to a girl like her as advice? With the goggles securely on, Matt looked up through the oranges lenses, only to discover that she was no longer in the hallway.

Hugging his key to himself, Matt hurried off to the bathroom.

----M----

November 23, 1998

Orphan was at in the Administration building with a sick cat. Check. Mello and Near were ensconced in the back corner of the library. Check. Check. With the other three Letters accounted for, Matt felt confident he was alone on the fourth floor. And if he wasn't, only Lawrence could be behind the L door and Matt would almost wish he would come out. Even though he felt his heart beating wildly enough that he was sure he was either having a heart attack or that someone would hear it, Matt steeled himself and raised his arm.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sound echoed down the hallway, but nothing stirred. He shifted on his feet in front of the unmarked door where he had seen the mysterious girl. The chances were high that she lived there… or the Jiwon she spoke of did. Either way, he was sure that if he could talk to one of them, he'd learn who she was. He hadn't given up his self-imposed detective training, and the fact that she hadn't given him her name straight-out only made Matt want to discover it more.

Matt knocked again. Nothing happened.

He waited twenty minutes, sitting down against the door across from the one he was watching and pulling out his Gameboy to help pass the time. He left with his determination intact, knowing he'd simply have to get his information elsewhere.

---M---

November 24, 1998

"Oh, hi Matt," Linda replied a little uneasily. She didn't look him in the face. Matt tried to ignore her attitude, not letting her see how he gritted his teeth. The cold November wind whistled between the buildings and Matt pulled his vest tighter against himself.

"You've been at Wammy's for a long time, haven't you?" he asked, feeling awkward. He reminded himself that he was only talking to her to get some information. This was a purely professional exchange, so Matt should keep himself as detached as possible. Besides, why should he care what a reg thought of him?

Linda nodded, her signature blonde pigtails shaking. "This is my third year." Her eyes, a vivid blue, turned up to Matt's. "…Why do you care?"

Matt shrugged, deciding to give her the only real piece of information he had in connection with the strange girl. "I wanted to know if you knew anyone named Jiwon."

Her eyes widened in shock and fear at the name, and Matt knew without a doubt that she knew who the girl had been speaking about. Chances were that she probably knew the girl too. Despite, or perhaps because of the fear on Linda's face, Matt felt smugly satisfied that his detecting skills had gotten him somewhere. He decided he wasn't afraid of whoever Jiwon was because with the knowledge he was acquiring, he would have no reason to fear him. He'd learned in class that knowledge was power and Matt felt more powerful already. He now knew that Jiwon had been here some time within the last three years and had left a lasting impression. It also fit that Linda wouldn't like Jiwon if the boy had lived on the fourth floor… he'd be one of those kids, someone with knowledge and power beyond those of ordinary children. And Matt suddenly realized, translating the movements of the girl before him in a new light, that Linda feared him as well.

"Tell me everything you know about him, Linda," Matt ordered, testing out his new commanding air. He felt like he was in a movie. Linda reacted accordingly, not actually taking a step back, but seeming to shrink into herself a little. She nodded, again unable to meet Matt's goggles. A wave of triumph surged into Matt's growing pride, then ebbed in sudden horror.

What was he doing? He froze, blood pounding in his ears as he recognized Linda's position as one he'd been in for most of his life. Bullied. Jeered. Disrespected. It had been easy to fall into the give-and-take of the social structures of the Letters, those between the four children and those with the rest of the world. But that didn't necessarily mean it was… right.

How could Matt hope to be a detective and solve the world's crimes if he couldn't even be nice to others? Matt had never wanted to hurt anyone or place them in the same position he had been in. Yet here he was, relishing the idea of getting his information from a scared girl. Matt looked at Linda again.

She was about eight years old, about the age where normal children would begin forming closer friendships with some, but singling out others. From that alone, Matt figured she was probably worried she could get singled out from her coveted popular spot in her group of friends. She always wore her hair in pigtails… a hint that she didn't like leaving her comfort bubble, she didn't like changes. Matt had never seen her wear her hair any differently, and her clothes were meticulously picked from a collection of fashionable jeans and cute t-shirts. She always seemed to look the same. From this critical standpoint, Matt could see almost right away that she was self-conscious about how others perceived her, and so she usually hid behind a confident, braggart exterior that took the form of gossip. But the mention of Jiwon, something she didn't understand very well, she grew uncomfortable and afraid. She was actually fairly typical. Average.

And Matt felt jaded.

"Sorry, I'm just curious. I didn't know it would scare you or anything. If you really don't want to talk about it…" Matt trailed off. The honest words left his mouth with a hint of shame in them. Linda looked up suddenly, her eyes still wide, but the fear seemed to be slowly leaving them, replaced with a kind of wonder. The look was lost when she suddenly snapped her eyes back to their normal expression.

"I'm not scared or anything, Matt," Linda scoffed, but Matt could see right through it. It gave him the strange sensation that he'd lost something, but he brushed it aside as Linda continued. "Jiwon used to live up on the fourth floor."

"Used to?" Matt questioned.

"Yeah, he was a lot older. I mean, he left Wammy's already. Graduated out, you know." Linda seemed smug suddenly, and Matt allowed it to her, realizing that if she thought she was gaining something here, it would only let her speak more freely. Matt pondered her reply. So Jiwon was probably around the same age as the girl… it made sense.

"What about a girl around the same age? She still lives on the fourth floor, but she won't tell me her name. Do you know…" Matt's voice died in his throat as Linda's expression faded into shock, her face paling to a chalky white.

"Linda?"

"You… saw Kiss?" Her voice was low, spoken in a frightened whisper.

"Kiss?" Matt repeated, not quite understanding Linda's horror. He thought back to his encounter… the beautiful teenager must have kissed the top of his head in place of a name. Of course, he realized, trying not to let his face turn red and looking down in case it did. There was no way Kiss had really cared about kissing him. He felt suddenly like an idiot, knowing that he should have been able to figure that out sooner. He hurried on, hoping not to blush in front of Linda. "Yeah, it must have been her."

He looked back up to Linda, belatedly recalling himself to the moment. "What's the matter?"

"Kiss is dead, Matt." Linda's voice was deathly quiet and shaky, her face still bloodless. "She was killed up on the fourth floor last year."

Matt blinked, suppressing a shiver, before letting logic make his way easier. Linda was probably just trying to make him look like an idiot… except she seemed like she was too scared to try to mess with him. However, logic was logic, and there was no evidence for believing in ghosts. And Kiss especially couldn't be a ghost; she had touched him. He pushed down a memory of the uneasy feeling and vertigo he had experienced on their first encounter. It couldn't be true; Linda was just trying to screw with his head because she didn't like those kids, people like him. "Then it wasn't her."

The color was gently returning to Linda's face as she shook her head. "So describe her."

"Reddish-blonde, maybe 16, grey eyes, a—"

"And a bloody t-shirt?" Linda supplied, cutting Matt off. The red and white pattern that he couldn't decide whether it was paint or a flower pattern… was blood? No... blood was sickeningly red and monstrous and flowed along floorboards towards dark corners. It didn't have a place near the beautiful girl. It just didn't. It couldn't. Matt met Linda's eyes, trying to figure out how she was lying to him, knowing that she had to be lying. Otherwise, Matt would.... He stopped thinking about it, his mind weaving around the issue, giving him more calming and logical conclusions to put in its place. Of course she was lying. He just needed to prove it now. Find the clues and work out the puzzle like a real detective would.

"Why don't you describe her further and I'll decide whether it's the same girl?" He asked.

"She's really, really pretty and her eyes are actually kind of green and her hair is long and wavy." Linda seemed very sure of herself and Matt tried to find the lie in her words, but it didn't seem to be there. He felt the world shifting around him, the feeling of unreality settling into him again ever so slowly. Kiss... could she really be dead?

"Someone else has seen her ghost before, you know," Linda commented into Matt's silence. Her manner changed to one more subdued, and she looked down at the dying grass beneath her feet.

"You?" Matt guessed, only half aware of himself and her words. He wasn't sure where the other half of himself had gone. He felt distanced, estranged from the moment.

"No," she replied quietly. "It was Near. He told me about it when he first got here."

Several ideas struck Matt at once. Near hadn't mentioned seeing Kiss when Matt had asked at his birthday party... but then again, Near hadn't said he hadn't seen her either. He hadn't responded at all, but Matt had brushed it off as Near simply being Near. It could be possible. Not only that, but for Linda to reference Near meant that they actually spoke to each other? Enough so that Near would tell her about seeing girls or ghosts called Kiss. But why would Near and Linda ever talk? It made absolutely no sense at all. But if Linda were telling the truth? Invoking Near's name when Linda knew Matt lived closer to the pale boy than she did meant that she wanted Near to back her up on this. Matt had to assume that Near knew as much as he did about Kiss. He wondered suddenly if Mello—his biggest rival—knew. It was certainly likely that the blond boy had beaten it out of the albino. Was this some kind of test or race to find the truth? Matt was suddenly driven by his need to know more than Mello and to beat him at whatever Matt's detective quest had turned into. He snapped back to the present situation, reality slipping snugly back into place around him.

"Linda?" Matt asked, his voice authoritative with his need. "How did she die?" What was the test here? To find the liar and the lie? Did the instructors know about this? Was this really some complex trick set by them? Or was he supposed to realize that maybe things were possible outside the norm? What if she were really a ghost? What was his task then? Helping her rest? The thought was dizzying with its gravity, colliding into his other questions that he knew he needed to find the answers to on his own.

The blond girl looked away. "None of the adults will talk about it, but everyone knows Ivan killed her."

A chill seeped into Matt's blood, mingling with his . A murder? But more importantly, a name: Ivan. Which would be followed by Jiwon and Kiss. They were more Letters. More detectives in training? But if that was the case, why would one of them become the criminal? Why would anyone have wanted to kill Kiss? And was any of this real? Had anyone actually died?

He looked carefully at Linda. If she were a skilled enough liar at her age to convince him that she was telling the truth, she'd probably be living on the fourth floor. Linda believed whatever she was saying.

But what about the Letters that had come before I? Where were they? Graduated?

…Dead?

Matt realized belatedly that Linda was staring at him because he hadn't outwardly shown a reaction to her words. "Th-that's terrible," Matt mumbled, trying to come up with anything to say that would keep Linda from thinking he was heartless for not caring that Ivan had killed Kiss. His head was still spinning from all the information, little waves of questions with no answers lapping over him. "I'll, uh, talk to you later."

For some reason, Matt had to force himself to simply walk away, restraining the part of him that wanted to run. His heart was beating rapidly, and his breath came faster. What was wrong with him? Panic bubbled up from his chest, only making him gasp more for oxygen. Something was terribly wrong; his body shouldn't be doing this for no reason. Was he dying? Would he turn into a ghost like Kiss? The rubber padding of his goggles felt slick with cold sweat. His heart beat still faster as his adrenaline kicked in, responding to Matt's fear. What was happening to him? His steps got quicker. He needed to get away, get inside, under his blankets. Or maybe a hospital? What did a heart attack feel like? He gulped, his mouth dry from the air that he couldn't seem to get enough of. If he could just get around that corner… please let him make it to the corner….

Matt ran, gasping and choking, his heart thundering erratically to his ears, knowing he wouldn't be safe until he was back in his little solitary world of darkness.

----M----

November 26, 1998

He avoided going outdoors as much as he could help it after speaking with Linda. He still didn't know what had happened, but the thought of returning to the withered grass, cold air, and winter sun made his throat begin to close up. The setting was too vivid, the remembered scenery too intense.

Today was better, though. Heavy clouds had thundered their way slowly across the sky and opened up a torrential current of rain, blotting out the sun and drenching the landscape in a gloomy darkness. It was the first time Matt had been able to leave his goggles around his neck on his way to dinner.

He darted across the damp sidewalk, and ducked inside the refectory. Matt ran a hand through his hair in the vain effort to dry off the red strands before shaking himself like a wet dog. It wasn't very effective, but he wandered into the large room, still dripping slightly from the downpour.

It was empty, save for three older boys hunched over a table, who looked like they were playing some kind of game. Matt recognized them from his building, and his mind kicked into gear, analyzing the teenagers. Those three mainly kept to themselves, and had an air of delinquency about them that made Matt uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how it had become his habit to evaluate the people in his immediate vicinity, but it had been happening since his encounter with Linda. Matt didn't always enjoy doing so; it felt like his mind kept racing ahead to tell him things he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Nonetheless, the three boys drew his attention while he walked over to the kitchen. Matt forced himself to look away, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Proper dinner was already over, so he scavenged around the kitchen. He saw a basket of fruit and decided it was probably healthier for him than eating cake like he had done with Lawrence. Matt wondered vaguely when he would see the teenager. He picked up an apple and exited the kitchen, putting it up to his mouth as he did so. Except a burst of laughter erupted from the table at the same time and he jumped. Matt's feeling of unease only grew when the laughter quieted suddenly as he spun to face the noise.

The one closest to him was Grant. His broad-shouldered back faced Matt and over one such shoulder, Matt caught Crick's nervous grey eyes that never settled on any one thing for too long in a fashion Matt found unsettling. Matt looked to the third boy sitting at the table.

Unlike his companions, this one, Dan, could only be called beautiful. Darker skin and a classically chiseled face with hair that curled into dark rings swept back from his forehead. Matt would also have called him friendly as well as beautiful, except for his dark chocolate eyes; they looked sweet, but seemed to hold something bitter within. For a moment, those eyes rested on Matt's, and he found that he didn't necessarily dislike Dan's eyes and the way he was watching him. He pushed the thought from his mind quickly, not wanting to analyze it.

It only took a few seconds for Matt to glance over the three boys, the feeling of disquiet unrelenting. Apple in hand, Matt turned to go, taking a few more steps towards the door.

"On second thought," Dan began loudly, and Matt felt his ears turn red, knowing that it was for his benefit, "No way am I betting against that."

Crick snickered, and Matt fought the urge to turn and face them. Would he be giving in if he did? They were only trying to goad him into doing something, he was sure.

"Apples?" Crick asked through his chuckling. Matt decided he didn't like Crick at all, and took another small step towards the door. He felt like a mouse trying to sneak away from three sated cats. They didn't want to eat him, but couldn't resist trying to toy with a meal they might share later.

"No, you git," Dan replied softly, yet his deeper voice carried along with the sound a fist hitting someone in the shoulder.

Grant spoke next, slowly and with care to emphasize his words. "I'd say the girl goes first. They always do."

As Grant spoke, Matt found himself unable to prevent himself from slowly turning back to the group. He didn't understand their words, having only picked up the conversation halfway through, but a shiver of fear spasmed its way down Matt's spine. The room began to slowly take on a surreal feel, the corners of slinking off into an unimportant blur.

"That's only because you were surrounded by them. Naw, it'll be the cripple," Crick was quick to reply, and his eyes darted over to Matt before sliding around the room again. The pale teen's hands twitched together, his body still in motion even though he was sitting.

"No," Dan replied smoothly, his gaze also falling onto Matt, "It'll be that one."

Matt felt his heart freeze as Crick burst into laughter, the hint of hysteria louder now, so that no one could have believed something funny had happened from the sound of it. Matt's blood was like ice, shifting through his veins as slowly as glaciers. The words that had come from Dan's mouth were harmless, but the tone, the inflection was a veiled threat.

"Shut up, Crick," Grant said, a trace of annoyance and a sigh in his voice. Dan just continued to smile. Matt felt trapped.

"But, he's supposed to be the smarter one," the blond whined, looking between his two companions with a slightly crazed smile. Were they talking about him?

"But not the strongest," Dan returned easily, almost lazily.

There was a pause laced with the sound of Crick trying to suffocate his neurotic chuckles and Matt debated running.

"Alright, how much?" It was Grant, his steady voice breaking the silence. Matt tried to make sense of what was going on. What exactly were they betting on? Suddenly, Matt was sure it was something he needed to know.

"Fifty," Dan answered smoothly.

It was followed by a low whistle from Crick that lapsed into his constant snicker. Grant's shoulders shifted and Matt could tell he was looking at the laughing teen expectantly.

Crick became completely still for a moment to give his answer in a serious tone. "I'll go cripple."

"And I'll go the girl," Grant said like a dealer in a card room. "How long?"

The room fell completely silent for a moment, without even the rustle of clothing from Crick's restless movement. Matt could have guessed it would have been Crick to break it.

"Yeah?" Crick cackled, "You think a few years before their little minds explode, Grant?"

"I'm surprised he's lasted so long already." Dan smiled, looking directly at Matt.

Matt ran, his footsteps echoing back into the laughter around the table.

AND THE PLOT THICKENS!! *dramatic music plays* Actually, I have certain playlists that I listen to when I write this story. If anyone wants to know, I could probably PM the list(s) out to people, or at least a few of the songs I think are essential to me. :)

To be honest to my wonderful readers... I don't really have any excuses for being so tardy besides that I seem to usually run out of momentum after 7 chapters of things. HOWEVER, Letters is a little closer to my heart and I've already made that little document on my computer labeled chapter 10. This chapter unfortunately had to go through more than the usual number of revisions, but hopefully it was worth the wait. Let me know if it was? And as always, please leave a review and feel free to guess the songs from any of the chapters.

This also marks the anniversary for this story being published, so yay! Happy Birthday Letters! I guess this means I average 8 chapters a year, ehehehe. I'll try to pick up the pace for you guys, but we'll see how I do with the rest of my life. Thanks for all the support.