you just left? No letters, no goodbye, not even a note to explain where you went!”
“Ala…”
“Don’t call me Ala. My name is Alagha to strangers.”
I slammed the door shut again.
“Did you go back to our happy place again?” he yelled from behind the door.
I took a deep breath and opened the door again, slower this time. “Every day.”
Then I closed the door.
Well, that was quite bizzare.
That night, I found a box outside my door, labeled ‘Ala’ in an elegant script that couldn’t be
his. The box was full of paper.
Curiosity overwhelmed me and I carried the box inside. My parents were still out, so…
I sighed. Why not?
I dug out the envelope that was labeled ‘#1’. Unlike the elegant handwriting that was on
the top of the box, the paper was covered in hideous chicken scratches that I recognized as his
handwriting. Suddenly eager, I unfolded the paper.
Dear Ala,
I didnt want to leave. Aunt said I had a ‘condishun’ and I had to leave. I wish u were here.
Wow, his spelling certainly hadn’t been as good as mine when he was nine.
Dear Ala,
It’s depressing here. No one wants to play with me, becuz they all think I’m stupid and I cant
do PE class. I wish u were here.
The paper said ‘2006 Feb 14’, which meant he was ten at the time.
Dear Ala,
Its hard to keep a straight face these days when we’re learning about puberty at school. I
really don’t want to learn about our ‘genetical parts’. Its different from our old school. I wish you
were here.
This went on, a letter a year, until number eight, where he said,
Dear Ala,
I’m coming back, finally. Well, in a few months. That’s a long time, but at least I am going
back. It’s been eight years. I’m so sorry you had to wait so long. I hope you haven’t forgotten me. I
haven’t forgotten you.
Underneath, in that elegant script, was:
Dear Ala,
I did write letters, Ala.
I’m back, finally. I’m sorry it took so long. I know it was torture when I was gone; it was
torture for me too. I had no friends; I couldn’t do anything we used to do together because they
would all think I’m crazy. I couldn’t do PE class because of my ‘condition’, and I finally found out
we had left that day because my uncle and aunt cared enough (strangely) to try and buy medicine
to help my disease. Please forgive me. Our happy place is still there—I checked. Please don’t slam
the door in my face again.
I’m sorry. I love you.
The doorbell rang.
