Echo Presents: The Letter

Story by: Kimberly Lawson

Art by: Nicky Croom

Julie walked into her brown bricked townhome. The inside of her home was modern with a splash of color. She dropped the mail that had sat in her hand in the square shaped holder next to her front door. She was walking away as she spotted in the corner of her a bright pink stamp on an envelope. She rushed back picking up the letter and her hands trembled. The letter was from her, by her–it was her now-dead best friend. Dead in the ground for six months, dead. She opened the letter and gasped when she saw date on the letter.

It was addressed today. Six months after she passed.

And she started reading….

Dear Julie,

If you are reading this letter, then I’m dead. And by dead, I mean in the ground, not forty-thousands dollar I debt dead.

So, I died of the worst thing ……. cancer. Such a bitch. I bet my I looked like I had no makeup on for a week. Or the time before I knew what color matching was or the right shade match of foundation.

To this day I still try to forget freshmen year of college. Especially because I had no ideal what applying makeup was. I miss you. God, I wish I there to tell you that. Through everything I have been through before the hospital or the cancer you were always there for me. Through thick and then. Even when my family didn’t care. I bet at my funeral mom was crying crocodile tears and dad looked sterner than ever. But I mostly worry about you.

How you’ve been? How you have been feeling? Is my room in our place still empty? Will you ever get another roommate?

I know that last question is a hell no. You want that saved for your future kid to let her know that her great aunt lived in there and will always watch over you. I also know this is the shortest letter I have ever written to you. So, I leave you with that question:

Will you live for today or live in the past forever? 

 Sincerely,

 Amy

Julie clasped to the floor and dropped the letter to her side. Tears flowed down her face. The last words that came out of her mouth were soft but solid.

 “I will live for today.”

Are you a North Springs student and like what you see? Submit your poetry, fiction, plays, stories, essays, art, photos & more!

Send to: nshighpublications@gmail.com or to ThroneA@fultonschools.org.

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