That I Would Be Good

Prologue

When you are tempted to give up, your breakthrough is probably just around the corner.” ― Joyce Meyer

     Alana walked down her driveway coming home from work. It had been a long stressful day.  For reasons unknown the businesses her company shipped to were not receiving any of the correct shipments. After many furious phone calls and calming each customer with a promise of half off their order, she told shipping to redo the orders correctly this time. 

     Home at last, she headed for the mail. Expecting to see a stack of the usual bills and advertisement she was surprised to find a thick orange envelope in her box. She didn’t remember ordering anything, and she wasn’t expecting any gifts. Her birthday wasn’t for another five months and all the holidays had passed months ago. Who could possibly have sent her this, and what was it?

     Slowly, with two fingers, she pulled the package out of the mailbox, afraid maybe it was a bomb.  Lately it seemed the news was full of stories about people placing bombs in random mailboxes. The day being so terrible, Alana wouldn’t be surprised if it were a bomb.  When the package reached the edge of the mailbox she let go, jumping back she squeezed her eyes close and gave a small squeal as the package hit the ground.  No explosion; relieved she quickly bent over and picked it up before the puddle it landed in could damage it.

     Turning the envelope around to read whom it was from, Alana was met with disappointment; no return address, no stamps, and the thing she found the oddest there was no address to who it was for. All that was written on it was: You might need this… or not.

     A little leery, Alana placed the envelope under her arm and grabbed the rest of her mail. Slamming the mailbox shut, she hurried towards her house.

    At twenty-four, Alana was rather wealthy. Money wasn’t dripping from her ears, but she had enough to afford a nice sizable house. Her job as CEO at one of the largest textile corporations in the state paid well, and this allowed her to live comfortably.

     [MC1] She was a workaholic. She rarely saw her family. The last time she flew home to her little town in Kansas from New York was almost four years ago. She kept telling herself she was too busy, and just didn’t have the time.

     She missed her parents and little brother, but couldn’t leave work. What if something terrible happened while she was away?  The risk was too much. So she sent them Christmas cards, and the most expensive gifts hoping it’d be enough.

     Setting the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter, Alana took the envelope into the living room and sat on her old brown sofa. It was the only piece of furniture in the whole house she’d taken with her when she left her family home in Kansas. From the forts she made with her brother, to the movie marathons.  The sofa had so many memories she just couldn’t part with it.

      Lying on her back, legs stretched out, she opened the mysterious envelope. Peeking inside she found a stack of more than two-hundred pages. Whoever had delivered this definitely had a lot to say – unless it was a bunch of advertisement.

     Tentatively, she pulled out the pages, careful not to lose her grip and have them scatter all over the floor. She tossed the envelope onto the coffee table and set the papers on her lap. Pulling the first page off the top she began to read the typed Times New Roman print:

Dear whoever is reading this now,

     You just received a letter that is going to be different than any other letter you have ever received. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. I’m sending this letter to tell people my story. It’s not a complete tragedy and it’s not complete happiness; it’s life.

     I hope to tell people it gets better. And during those moments of weakness where you feel it’d be best to just stop living; dig deep and stop thinking that way. It will eventually get better. I promise. I’ve been there and I know

     So sit back and relax. This is going to be a long story, well worth the read.

                                                                                                                                             Elodey