The Letter

By Emily, age 15

Dear Ella,

Before you go on, I need you to make sure that you are alone. If you aren’t, fold this sheet of paper in half immediately, place it in your pocket, (in the little secret one I sewed on the coat you always wear) and make an excuse to leave. You cannot under any circumstances trust another soul with the contents of this letter. Particularly not my dreadful brother who I assume you are still living with.

Alone? Good. Then you may flip over the page.

Hello brother. Oh, I can see the shock on your face even as I am writing this. Regain your composure, you look simply dreadful with your mouth hanging open like that. Besides, you should have expected the contents of this letter to be as such. Did you really think I would send secret and personal information to Ella in this way? I know you far too well for that old boy, which, as a matter of fact, is exactly why I composed this letter as I did. I know you would never willingly read anything from me unless it was addressed to someone else. Ever the nosey nuisance. Now come, don’t take that last comment to heart, I assure you that this message is sent only with the very friendliest of intentions at heart. However, little jokes aside, there is a real issue at hand which must be addressed with urgency. You remember Olivia, blond, odd posture, big cloak? The deadly serious one who didn’t laugh at any of your terrible jokes? Bet that last one got you! Well, she came into the court last week, breathless, wheezing even. Her hair was all frazzled, dirty looking; her cloak torn; face scratched. And her eyes… Oh there was something in there brother… A hint, a warning, the sort of look that makes you want to turn and hide and shield yourself from the fear that seemed to possess every fibre of her being.