CHAPTER 21: The Question

CHAPTER 21: The Question

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Ella's college schedule was tiring as usual. Zoey cracked jokes while Ms Simmons was teaching fiction and telling them to make up characters with backstory while Zoey wanted all the characters to either die a horribly gruesome death, steal something or fall in love and end up with the worst person they possibly can. She was just pure sadistic and it was hilarious to watch.

Neo met her during Communications lecture and for once behaved in a very friendly manner, so those were the two classes that didn't completely bore her but she had four classes in a row that day which was rare and it sucked all the energy out of her body, but she still pushed herself to not give into the lethargy and went to meet her friends at their hangout spot- Jay's apartment since it was closest.

She couldn't opt out, not after she went out to look for a present to buy for Dan (it was a cool pair of sunglasses and she knew he was gonna love them), it was his birthday and they had big plans to cut a chocolate cake and sing a song and all that.

Nora was full of energy, and so were Jay and Daniel as they all bickered over one thing or the other, their contagious spirit infected Ella soon enough and she found herself laughing and joking along with them.

They cut the cake, drank beer exchanged gifts, and clicked a bunch of mad crazy pictures and Dan was wearing sunglasses indoors in all of them.

Ella ended up at the library in the evening. Sitting in a chair she looked down at the piece of paper in her hands, wondering what she ought to do. She read through the contest guidelines once again and noted the most important information.

The story must include an aspect of : History, Art , Crime etc. Ella knew she had to finalize a theme first, it was great that the aspects were so broad, but the downside was now she had too many options to choose from.

Word limit: Should be under 1,500 words, excluding the cover page with Author's name, title/degrees, professional affiliation and location and a biography of no longer than 100 words. 1,500 words, she deliberated, this was going to be hard, she knew she had a habit of overwriting.

Deadline: 1st December 2018, at 12 pm (Noon) CST. Late submissions will not be considered. She had a couple of months, but she didn't want to push it to the very last minute.

She sighed and gathered her long hair high up in a ponytail, secured it with a hair tie and opened her laptop. She began looking through sources with a newfound determination. Her writing process was elaborate and messy as she wrote and scraped and scribbled and scratched multiple notes and topics.

The graphite scratched and left streaks on the pages of her notebook and successfully she had managed to distract herself from the letter she had been deliberating about all day, but she knew she had to leave something before she walked out of the library, or she wouldn't sleep very well.

Her unwarranted procrastination eventually came to an end and she looked at his letter again, re-read it to write a reply.

25-Oct-2018

Dear Elliot,

The thought of my mind being a physical world is oddly frightening and to be honest I'd be very afraid to venture in there, too scared to find something I wish I never saw, thought or felt. You hold me in such high regard, it makes me feel undeserving of the compliments you so often shower me with.

Thank you for telling me your story and don't apologize for it. I like the unapologetic, slightly cheeky and relentlessly witty version of you, and I'm here for you.

I am sorry about your grandfather, it seems like he was your friend too, losing someone so close to your heart must have been hard. I lost my mom years ago when I was a little girl, too young to understand the true meaning of loss I endured but her absence left a void and it only grew bigger and more apparent with time.

My dad tries hard, but he's struggling too. I think he still hasn't moved on even after all these years. He is always swamped with work but he tries to be there for me, it's not easy being a single parent- to wear multiple hats and fill so many shoes.

He's always been supportive of everything I wanted to do, to the point that I now take it for granted. A little understanding and support from your loved ones can mean a lot and it makes me sad to know you didn't get that. You don't hold any bitter feelings in your heart though, and maybe a part of you even grew to like what you're studying- I can sense it.

You say you wrote letters and poured your heart out, emptied your mind on a paper, you know...you say all that, but the truth is you're still scared to open up and that's understandable, You're scared to open up to real people you're scared to post the letter, because when you do you think no one will understand.

You don't even tell your therapist everything that you should say, instead you write letters and hide them and make yourself believe you're over it, when in reality you've just buried it.

I know what it feels like to not be heard or understood or feel like you can't talk to someone about certain things.... Maybe I'm not dealing with everything you are, but I understand to a certain degree.

My dad and my brother don't understand me, not completely- my insecurities, my guilt, my feelings...growing up sometimes I felt like a misfit in my own family and I've come to realise there always will be that disconnect... They love me and care for me and it's not their fault that I don't have a mom or the fact that I don't even miss her, heck I don't even remember her... but I'm reaching out to people, because if there's one thing I've learned is that relationships are all different and they heal in different ways, people who care and understand are precious.

What we have here, you had no say in that, it was a fortunate accident, but you need to talk to someone voluntarily Elliot, even if it is your therapist. I don't want to tell you what to do, but I feel like someone has to, the decision is yours and I'll be here for you no matter what.

You talk about writing so fondly and you clearly have the tools, maybe you should give it a try so that you have no regrets.

I'll support you in everything you wish to do, pursue whatever you truly want to and I'll cheer you on through these letters or even in person if you want me to. It's only fair since you motivated me to work on my essay. After reading your letter I wrote a few pages worth of notes; most of them I might scrap but you helped me take a leap, the hard part is behind me, now I just have to get to the finish line.

I want you to feel this too, so get started if you haven't yet and if you're unsure talk to me about your stories, you know I'm always spellbound with the makings of your mind.

Affectionately,

Annie

After signing the letter, Ella sat and looked down at the words.

She knew she had omitted the most important thing that was on her mind and she debated it all over again. The empty space on the bottom of the paper stared back at her with a question. Before her mind could catch up with her heart, she was lifting her pen again and the words spilt from the nib.

P.S. There's a question in my mind Elliot and I'm not sure if I should ask it. The thing about mystery is sometimes it consumes you, so much so that it's hard to look further than that. It becomes a driving force for everything you do. My hand is hesitant, my words are measured with great care and my mind is heavy as I write this. I must ask, I can't keep this to myself and pretend it doesn't matter when really it matters a great deal.

You know me, don't you? Outside the pages of these letters, you know who I am, what I look like- you know me in person, don't you?

With those words, strange anticipation rose within her as a weight lifted off her mind. She didn't want to overthink it or change her words or second guess her thoughts.

Ella folded the paper in half gently just as she does always and left her letter tucked between the pages of the book and walked out of the library late in the dusky evening.

A couple of days later when she went to the library to retrieve the answer to her letter, there was no... reply.

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