Return to Sender

Chapter 1

Bailey eyed the TV screen with minimal interest while the news reporter resited the events at a house the night before. He didn’t care; it wasn’t the sort of crime he was interested in. He liked tragedy, mystery, death; not stoners trying to blow shit up. There was one crime that had held his interest for a while, young woman were going missing all around his neighbourhood and a few had even showed up dead, but to his disappointment that case seemed to have run cold. He noticed the mailman through the window and sighed; he should’ve been at school by now. He grabbed his bag from his room and headed out the door, grabbing the mail on the way. He flicked through them as he walked; most were bills, but one caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks. Something about the envelope’s faded colour and the shaky handwriting on it made him want to open it, even though it wasn’t addressed to anyone in his home.  He was both deeply confused and elated by what he read:

Dear M.F,

I remember the first time I saw you, the way you smiled at me from across the room, and the way that the butterflies started doing circus jumps in my chest. Although I didn’t know it then, but you’d be the one who changed my life.

You came up to me one day during our sports class and made small talk, you told me about how you love the cold outside air. I remembered. We quickly became friends, you showed me your stories and I showed you my drawings. I showed you my favourite comics and you showed me your favourite songs.

I haven’t written to you in a while, probably because you never write back, but how are you? I’ve never really thought of myself as a sentimental person, but I really treasured our time together, the way things were before they got out of hand.

 

I’m sorry; I really messed up this time. The worst part is that I know, if you were here, you’d forgive me in a heartbeat. Or at least you’d say you do. I never did understand what went on inside your head, not that’s I’d ever been good at reading people from the get-go, you were just especially difficult. Maybe that was just because I cared?

About the bodies, I found them, I know you saw they were moved, I just didn’t know if you knew it was me. I’ll say it again, just because I feel guilt, but I’m infinitely sorry, I know you didn’t know what you were doing when it happened, I just wish they knew that. Then maybe they’d leave me alone.

This will be my last letter, I really don’t have time for this anymore, but I just want you to know that I forgive you.

 

Love,

L. F. H

 

After he’d finished reading, Bailey quickly checked the address on the envelope and set off down the street to see who the bizarre letter belonged too, it sounded to him like the person had committed murder. I mean, come one, ‘The bodies, I found them’, that sounded like a murder accusation if he’d ever heard one. Which he hadn’t, but that was beside the point.

He reached the house. It was a rundown old shack with wooden planks nailed over the windows. Bailey grinned, this had ‘psycho killer’ written all over it. He knocked but no one answered. He was about to leave when he heard a noise inside and the door swung open just wide enough to reveal a figure.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman. She had messy brown hair and was wearing a dressing gown on. She looked like she hadn’t bathed or brushed her hair in years. 

‘What do you want, kid?’ Her voice was husky and rough and Bailey wondered if the woman was dressed like that because she was sick. The thought was disappointing.

She opened the door a little further and Bailey tried not to gag at the smell emanating from her house.

’Are you M.F?’ he asked hesitantly. ’I got your letter by mistake.’ He held it out.

She snatched it from his hands, tore it open and began to read. After a while, she mumbled something then slammed the door in Bailey’s face.

He stood there for a moment unable to keep the grin from his face. At last something interesting was happening in this boring town, in his boring life.