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This diary entry is written by ‹defineMANIAC›. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: Haven't done one of these in a while, heh c: in category Quizzy
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15th November ----Category: Fanfic
Thursday, 22 August 2013
06:44:51 PM (GMT)
Dear Friend,

I don't know who you are, but a friend I have said that you're honest and you'll
listen.  And not sleep with that person at that party even though you could have.  So
firstly, thank you for that.  My friend says that I know you, and you'll probably
know who I am too, but I'm going to try and remain anonymous, just so I can say
things I would never normally say.  If you work out who I am, please don't say
anything.  I don't want to lose you.  I haven't given you a return address for the
same reason.
I just need to know that someone in the world might care a little.  Enough to just
read my letters and not sleep with people even if they could have.  I need to know
that these people exist.
My mum and dad live in France.  I don't really know where.  I live with my two
sisters, Rebecca and Kathryn, and they're both younger than me.  I've had one
girlfriend before, but... it didn't work out.  I'm confused at the moment.  Happy and
sad at the same time, and still working out how that can be.  I met a guy recently,
and I like him.  A lot.  I don't really know why I'm telling you this, but... maybe
you'll understand. I was at a party the other day, and I started seeing things. 
Like, shadows and people I knew weren't at the party.  I left to go some air and this
guy found me and said I looked a bit lost, and bought me a hot chocolate from that
stall in the park.  The one with the blue flag.  I think I'm probably very naive for
thinking this, but I was in a bad place, and he made me feel wanted.  I haven't felt
wanted in a long time.  Only needed.
I don't know if you know what I'm talking about, or if you've experienced any of
this, but thank you for listening.  It really means a lot....

That was the first letter.  The boy swallowed, tucking it back into its envelope and
back into the elastic band at the front of the package.  His pale fingers flicking
the worn, well-read letters as he turned the package over and picked out the last

Dear Friend,

I don't know how much I'll be able to write now that I'm busy, and wanted, but if I
can, I'll try and write to you.  I just wanted to tell you, just in case this is my
last letter.  I was in a bad place, and you really helped me.  Even if you didn't
have a clue what I was saying some of the time, or know the situation, you made me
not feel alone. Especially because I know there are people who just don't care, or
forget what it's like.  But, just one thing, friend.  You mean so much to me, and I
hope you have a very nice life because I really think you deserve it.  I really do. 
I hope you do too.
So, if this does end up being my last letter, please believe that things are good
with me, and even when they're not, they will be soon enough.  I will believe the
same about you.
If you're ever going through bad things, just know that I really care about you, and
that I haven't lied at all in these letters.  Right from the start, you've been my

Love always,

The letters hadn't come for about a year now, and Aiden missed them.  He knew that
Robyn was only writing them to make himself feel better, but Aiden had come to rely
on them as well.  They helped him just as much as the baker, even if just for the
reason that he'd been called 'friend'.  When Salem left, Robyn had let him sit in the
bakery, munching on a cookie and complaining about the direction his tea cup handle
was pointing, and he had made the detective feel human, and not like a robot, the way
he was treated by everybody else.  Aiden knew what it was to feel lost and alone, and
though he'd never admit it, he saw Robyn as a friend too.  Those days he'd wasted
away in the bakery, watching him write behind the counter and wondering if that same
piece of paper would slip through his letterbox in a couple of days.
Of course, he'd done as Robyn wished and not let on that he knew, but he did, and the
fact that somebody cared about him, even in an anonymous, distanced way, meant the
world.  His slender fingers span the fountain pen a few times before finally pressing
it to the paper.

Dear Friend,

I know you never wanted me to reply, but I just had to say thank you.  Your letters
really made me feel wanted.  And needed.  I wanted to thank you for being here for me
when I was alone and upset, and when nobody else cared about me.
Thank you, Robyn.

Love always,

‹TheHashSlingingSlasher› says:   22 August 2013   792320  
This is basically like The Perks Of Being A Wallflower
‹defineMANIAC› says :   23 August 2013   780706  
Yeah, that was the point c:  I used quotations from the book and the


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