by May Belle Inksmith
As I slip the letter under the door I shiver, whether it’s from the cool air or from my nerves, I can’t tell.
Suddenly I change my mind. I desperately try to fit my fingers under the door to scrape the letter back. It’s no good, I can’t reach.
I don’t want to open the door − they should still be asleep but opening the door might wake them.
I quickly turn and walk away. It’s good to be more open, I just need to keep repeating that to myself, even if it is a lie.
I shut the door to my room behind me and curl up on my bed. What will happen when they read the letter? What will they think of me? They might hate me. Maybe I’m weird.
I stand up and begin pacing up and down my room.
I need to calm down! But I can’t. I stop pacing as tears began to prick my eyes.
They’ll hate me, I’m sure. What else could they possibly think of me!?
I hear a door creak and footsteps, I jump at the sound.
Oh no, oh no…
What can I do!? I leap into bed and hide under the covers.
My door is opening. I tighten my hands on the covers.
They sit down on the end of my bed. “Hey.” Their voice is gentle.
I didn’t know how to respond so I just say, “Hi…”
They softly put their arms around me.
Tears fill my eyes again. Am I just overthinking things?
I hear their voice again as they pull me closer, “I figured you’d be in here worrying, so I decided to come and remind you.”
“Remind me of what?”
“Never forget. You are loved.”
Those words mean the world to me.