When Death Won't Take You

18: An unsent letter

Laurie stared at the little photo. It was of Cinna.

"But why was it in the shed?" Laurie asked herself. "And what happened to the poor girl. She doesn't even look like she's wearing any clothes."

Laurie thought about the events of the last two days. She remembered how Cinna had come in their back door, and they had thought that strange. She hadn't known the year, either. At the time it had reminded Laurie of a time traveler. What if Cinna was? But wouldn't that be impossible?

Laurie did know one thing, Cinna used to live here on Moraga. She really didn't know why she hadn't noticed before. Cinna had seemed to fit comfortably into the bedroom Laurie had offered her, she hadn't had clothes with her when she came, but she had changed. Laurie had known there were clothes in the dresser in that room, but how come they just happened to fit Cinna and to be her style as well?

Then this morning, Cinna had been crying. Had something in the house triggered her? She seemed like she hadn't had a great life, judging from the picture Laurie had found. She had said she was scared. Scared of what?

"I need more information," Laurie muttered. The picture was providing her no answers, only more questions.

"Wait," Laurie said. "If nothing in that room was touched since Cinna was living here, which is what it seems like, then maybe there's something in there that would offer me a clue."

Propelled by her idea, Laurie tucked the picture into her pocket and ran down the hall into the little bedroom. "Cinna's bedroom," Laurie whispered, trying out the name.

The bedroom was dark, the curtain over the window blocked out most of the light. Laurie walked over to the window and opened it. It wasn't much lighter outside, so Laurie turned on the ceiling light.

The bedroom still looked the same as every other time she had been in it. This time, though, she looked closer. She went through the drawers in the dresser, but, aside from Cinna's clothes, there was nothing in them.

Laurie sat down on Cinna's bed. Rain, which had started falling earlier, had become a pouring downfall, and Laurie could see it beat against Cinna's window. Laurie hadn't searched that hard, but she was already tired.

"How am I going to manage to search this whole room?" Laurie wondered. "I'm already exhausted and I haven't found anything yet!"

Laurie decided to go easy on herself. She didn't have to search the whole room now. Cinna was gone, so there was no need to rush. She lay down on Cinna's bed, then got up again. The bed was really uncomfortable. The mattress was lumpy and the pillow was hard.

"How did she sleep on this?" Laurie wondered. She hung her head over the side of the bed and looked underneath. The slats underneath the bed that were supposed to hold the mattress were gone, though bits of them remained in spots. In the place of the slats were boxes and other things. They held the mattress at different heights, making it bump in random areas.

"This doesn't look sturdy," Laurie said. "What happened?"

Laurie began to take the sheets off the mattress, planning on moving it off of the broken frame and assess the situation properly, but when she was taking the pillow off of the bed, something fell out of the case.

Laurie looked down at the notebook that had fallen out of the pillowcase and now lay on the floor. It had opened during its fall to a page near the end. On the page was scrawled a letter.

Laurie picked up the notebook, the sharp letters that made up the letter intriguing her. Each one seemed full of pain, but also seemed to embody Cinna's spirit.

"She wrote this," Laurie whispered, glancing down to the end of the letter, where Cinna had signed her name. She skipped back to the start, reading the letter through.

Tadashi,

I'm writing this letter because I can't tell you in person. It's not like you're intimidating or anything, and I love you, but this is just really hard to say.

You've never met my father. I hope you never meet him. But I want you to know that he is doing things to me. Bad things. He keeps saying it's my fault. I don't know if it is my fault, but I think it is. If it is my fault, I don't know how to stop it. I need help. I don't know how to ask for it, but I keep trying...

I know you'll never receive this letter. I've written you a million letters, but I don't send them. But if I do send this letter, don't talk to me about it. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to tell you because I don't know if I can stand this anymore. I'm afraid that I'll hurt myself. I don't know how to tell you, but if you get this letter, maybe you'll know how to get help.

Please,

Cinna

7/25/2043

Laurie felt tears well in her eyes as she read the letter. She didn't know where Cinna was, but she knew the young woman needed her.

"Why did she leave?" Laurie said, her voice broken by tears.

"Who? Cinna?"

Laurie looked up, Charl stood in the doorway to Cinna's room.

"Yeah," Laurie said, tears still running down her face.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Charl asked, crouching down beside his wife. "What's that you're holding?" Now he sounded suspicious. He took the notebook from Laurie's hands.

As Charl read the page, Laurie saw his face deepen. When he read the signature at the end, his face went fully white.

"Cinna left this?" Charl asked Laurie, putting a hand on her cheek.

"No, I think...I think she lived here before us Charl," Laurie said. "This was her room, and I found this under her pillow."

"She lived here?" Charl asked.

"Yes, but she left. I'm worried about her, Charl. What are we going to do?" Laurie asked, moaning.

"Well, first, you need to take a deep breath, darling," Charl said, showing the sympathetic side of himself that Laurie loved. "Then we'll try to figure out Cinna's last name so we can find her easier."

"Okay," Laurie said, taking a deep breath.

"Good, now, let's keep looking around the room," Charl said.

"Wait, I need to show you her bed," Laurie said.

"Why?" Charl asked, confused.

"Just look-" Laurie started, but just then a knock sounded on the door.

"I'll get that, sweetie," Charl said.

Charl unlocked the front door, opening it to the rain and storm. A fierce wind blew in, but no one was standing there. Charl peered into the gloom, looking out one last time for the person who had knocked. Just as he concluded that there was no one there and began to close the door, the knock sounded again.

"It's the back door again?" Charl said, looking behind him toward the back of the house.