unposted letters | short stories

letter #1 | now that we don't talk

"Fucking Charles." She groaned.

Grabbing the phone in her hands, she opened Instagram to search for Aurora whom she had willingly unfollowed after finding out about...everything. Aurora's last post had been months ago. Way before they stopped talking. There was no sign of life from her best—former best friend...whatever. She scrolled through the rest of the pictures, the ones of them together were still there and her stomach churned.

She was tempted to call her and ask her how things were going. No. She prickled at her cuticles, nearly drawing blood.

No contact with Aurora.

—

from aurora

«I cannot be your friend so I pay the price of what I lost. And what it cost.»

"Aurora, why did you take the pictures out of their frames?" Her mom walked into the room, holding a box in her hands. She looked up from the pile of clothes lying on the bed and tried not to flinch at the sight of that one specific box. The woman put the container on the desk and grabbed one of the photos, her lips curling into a gentle smile. "These are your photos with Sloane. Look at yourselves here," She extended the piece of paper, tapping her finger on the front.

It was a picture of them when they were fifteen. Celebrating Aurora's birthday at her parents' house in Bari. A heart-shaped balloon with the words tanti auguri floated above their heads while they smiled from ear to ear, cheeks pressed to each other's. She looked away, fingers fiddling with the collar of a random shirt. 

"I didn't want them to get dusty. The light was damaging them too. Sometimes I forget to close the blinds and the sun gets in."

Her mom slightly tilted her head to the side, placing the photo back into the box and carefully staring at Aurora who was fully focused on the clothes again. They were silent. Sometimes it was a bit complicated to read her. Especially these past months.

"And how is she doing? You haven't talked about her in a while."

There was a little shrug, the shirt slipping out of her grasp. "Sloane is doing great," She didn't like to lie to her mom, but Aurora also didn't want to get into detail. Explain why Sloane probably wanted to vanish her from existence. Ouch. The mere thought still hurt. "She's in New York, you know. Very busy."

"Is she coming home for the holidays? You could invite her, we'd love to see her. Unless she's spending them with her boyfriend again, but it doesn't hurt to ask." The acid rose up her throat. Heart thumping loudly in her chest. Did the air suddenly leave the room?

Oh no. "I don't think she's coming," She tried to smile, but it felt like a strange grimace. "If she does, she'll most likely go to Rotterdam and spend some days with her parents."

"Really?" Maybe lying to the woman who'd taken Sloane in like a second daughter for years wasn't her wisest move.

"Yes, you know what her mom's like." Her mother didn't reply to this and only nodded. Aurora decided it was time to move past that conversation. "I left the big bag in the kitchen. Would you mind bringing it here? I was thinking of putting there the clothes I don't wear anymore. I don't want to overpack for the new flat in London."

Her mom smiled and nodded, turning around to step out of the bedroom. When she was out of sight, her gaze fell on the box. There was a very unsettling pressure in her chest. She knew Sloane was doing fine, or she seemed fine from the times Aurora had embarrassingly stalked her social media accounts in the past couple of months. She even smiled sometimes, sadly, remembering the pictures her friend would send from time to time when they were still friends. Best friends. She wouldn't get that back, would she?