Letters and Love

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Izzy sighed, walking through the front door, slamming it closed, and chucking her bag to one side. 2

‘Isabelle!’ her father shouted from his seat. 3

She exhaled, slipping her Dunlop trainers off. He had started moaning already, and the frustration of being called her full name grew inside her. She kicked the door open and slumped in, standing before him. 4

‘I’ve spoken to you about the state of your room far too many times recently, now go and tidy it up, before I ground you,’ he stated grumpily, his eyes fixed upon the television as he did so. 5

She turned, walking off, hoping the time until her mother returned would speed up. She grabbed her bag, dragging it behind her up the stairs. She flicked her brown hair out of her eyes, curling it behind one ear, her blue eyes now gleaming. Reaching her room, she closed the door, turning her latest Blink 182 album on. It blasted out, as she gathered her school books off the floor, and put the crumpled clothes into drawers. 6

By the time she had finished darkness was falling in the sky, so she turned out the lights. She lit several candles with her lighter, and burnt an incense stick, hoping to calm herself. Izzy sat back on the window seat, her head rested on the damp window. 7

‘You call this done do you young lady?’ her father asked, barging into her room. 8

She turned in shock, but looking around the room she could see nothing out of place. 9

‘Look at this! From this onwards, everything out of place will be thrown away,’ he said, picking up a book peaking from under her bed. 10

She stood, reaching for the book, ‘give it to me.’ 11

‘No, you can have it back when you learn to put things away properly,’ he said, his angered face sneering at her. 12

‘Give it! I’ll tidy my room, ok? Just give it back!’ she mumbled, reaching for it again. 13

At the moment, an evil smile appeared on his face, as he glanced away in thought. She couldn’t take it anymore, the irritation he was causing her was simply too much. So with one quick action, she took the book from his hand, and pushed him out the door, pushing the lock into place. 14

‘Isabelle open the door!’ 15

‘No, I want to be left alone,’ she mumbled, turning the music on. 16

‘Fine!’ he shouted, stomping down the stairs. 17

She smiled slightly, then turned the music louder, sitting back at the window seat, the book grasped tightly in her hand. Once settled, she fat forward, placing the book down. She stared, running her fingers over the beaded pattern on the front. As the song ‘I Miss You’ began, she carefully opened the book, the first page shooting memories to the front of her mind. A tear almost dripped, but she held it back, looking at the photo on the first page. The memories flooded back, how they both wrote each page with different coloured crayons, in-between kisses and hugs. She remembered how he gently kissed the photo of her, her hand curled around the book tighter, missing him more than she had done in so long. She flicked the page, and her eyes became fixed to a picture of him, memories of them lying in that field in summer. The reflection of flames danced on his picture, and she found herself longing for him… 18

Instead she placed the book down, crouching down, and reaching further under her bed, taking out the two letters he had written. She stared, reading them through, running her fingers gently across the paper. She glanced down to the ‘I love you’ he had written neatly, she remembered a tear smudging it the first time she had read it. 19

She fell asleep in that same position, her head resting on the wall, as she gently slumped down on the window seat.

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