Open When Letters Already Written Novels & Stories

The grandmother's wolf ring was on my fourth finger. He sat in the chair by the window. I sat on the bed. I opened the envelope. The letter was three pages long. His handwriting was old-man handwriting. The strokes were thinner than they had been when I was small. The lines did not stay straight on the page. He had written it slowly. He had not written it in one sitting. The ink color changed twice, which meant he had stopped and come back to it, and had finished it on a day that was not the day he had started.

The anger. His arm. The ink. The word. I could see the shape of it. The length short, one syllable, maybe two. The first letter was tall. Possibly a C. Possibly a G. The italics made it harder, the letters leaning into each other. I opened my eyes. The word is short. Starts with C possibly. Italic script. Can't read the full word. I stared at what I had written. It wasn't enough. It told me almost nothing.

Because whoever wrote this one somehow knew exactly how tonight felt. I hadn’t even finished reading the first paragraph when I realized something else. This letter was longer than any of the others. Much longer. And for the first time since they started arriving, the writer had signed it with a single initial. M.

The locket opens. Not with any mechanical resistance or clicking of a latch. It simply opens, as if it was waiting for the right pressure applied with the right intention. The two halves fall apart on the chain and inside, folded so small it should not be possible, is a piece of paper so thin it's nearly translucent. I unfold it with hands that are not quite steady. The letter is handwritten. Small, precise, urgent script cramped into every available centimetre of the paper. The ink is a colour that is not quite brown and not quite red, and after a moment of staring at it I understand with a slow cold certainty what the writer used to write it.

I no longer had any problems staying awake, but at the same time, I didn't hear another word or take a single note. After class, I walked outside into the one-hundred-and-ten-degree heat and zombied to the library. My ass hit a chair, I drank half my water bottle, and then went back to staring. The fluttering in my chest had me longing for one thing, but I knew I was being an idiot. Killian MacGregor would never send me anything. I lifted the envelope, took a deep breath, and opened it slowly. Three tickets slipped out along with a small slip of paper.

It has also a gothic font that only Andrea used. "What if the council will reject this letter?" Franklin asked her, still not confident to become the Alpha of the North pack even though he has all the qualities of an Alpha. Andrea just smiled at him. "Don't worry. As soon as they see the design of the letter, they will accept it. Only the Lopez family used that font, and they will know that it came from me, so they will not ignore it," Andrea said, assuring Franklin. Franklin nodded and put the letter to his drawer.

I have people actually waiting for me and I’m here thinking about what? I pick up the letter, placing the neatly folded paper into the envelope and in an act of desperation, licking my thumb just a bit so I can get the opening of the envelope to close back up. It’s a very futile attempt and it doesn’t work so I leave it that way. I don’t intend to hide the letter from Roman, and I don’t intend to hide the fact that I have read it too….. I‘ll just leave it here until he comes back from work.

His face slowly turned from confusion to horror while I just stared at the letter that was lying half open on the table already. “If it was, you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to yell” I deadpanned and I watched him slowly process and understand what I was trying to tell him “ohhhh..I guess we are safe and certain it’s not a bomb. Go on and bring it out then, let’s see what it is” He gestured with his head and I just shook my head before opening the letter to see what was in it I brought out the paper, it was an A4 paper that had been printed on and it was addressed to me so I opened it and read it out so James could also hear.

Travis asked as he looked at it. “I do not know. A maid found it in front of the door and handed it to me.” Josh explained that the letter appeared to be spelled by some kind of spell and that only he could open it. “Very well,” He said as he tore the envelope and took out the letter. “What is it?” Josh asked as he tried to peep into it but could see nothing other than a blank sheet of paper: “Why is it all blank? Why can I not see it?” He asked as he looked at Travis, who seemed to be very serious while looking at the letter.

Holding an envelope. Fresh. Not dusty. Not old. Fresh. Dante immediately took it. On the front, written in elegant handwriting: For Dante. Silence filled the hall. Aruna's heart raced. Someone had left this recently. Very recently. Which meant they weren't alone. Dante opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper. Nothing else. He read it. Then his expression darkened. "What does it say?" Aruna asked. Dante handed her the letter.