In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you--Buddha
March 7, 2010
The clock ticked three minutes past midnight. The house on the beach was completely dark except for the glow of the bedside table light illuminating the eighteen-year-old boy in one of the three bedrooms.
He was seated on the neatly made bed, a stack of sealed envelopes to his left and a half-blank sheet of paper resting on his leg. His blond hair flopped into his blue eyes as he read over the words he'd written. Hastily, he scribbled a few more lines down and read it over one last time. Then, he reached for the envelope on his right. After placing the letter inside, he sealed the envelope and turned it over so that he could scrawl on the front one measly number.
31.
He placed the letter at the bottom of the stack so that they were all in careful numerical order and then grabbed a length of twine and tied it around all thirty-one so that they would always be together. He attached a name tag so that the person they were meant for would find them. Then, his task finished, he opened the drawer on his bedside table and placed the stack of letters inside.
Rising to his feet, he walked into the hallway towards the bathroom that he shared with his sister. He strode in without hesitation and opened the medicine cabinet. With a surprisingly steady hand, he reached for an orange bottle of pills that he carried with him back to his bedroom. There, he opened the bottle and stared down at the little white tablets. Then, with slightly trembling fingers, he brought the bottle to his mouth and tipped the contents into his throat.
An hour later, he was dead.
YOU ARE READING
Thirty-One Letters
Teen Fiction*A Watty's 2021 Shortlister* Three months and twenty-five days. The last time Hadley Brown saw her brother alive. When Tanner commits suicide, the entire town is shaken but no one is more lost than Hadley. Grief-stricken and aimless, Hadley's life...
