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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dribbles - 21. Just A Girl

Prompt response from GA Prompt 219: A letter was mistakenly delivered to you. You had opened and read it before you realized it wasn’t meant for you. What was the letter about and what do you do about it?

 

"She's just a girl! She said ... she said ...."

Mr. Caplin eyebrows rose. "What's the matter, Perry?"

I wiped at the tears streaming down my face and held out a letter. It trembled violently. "I thought ... I thought it was from school. They use these envelopes. B-but i-i-i ..." I shook my head violently. "Why?" I cried.

"Oh, hell." Mr. Caplin dropped the letter and pulled me into his arms. "We don't know why, Perry." He rubbed my thin shoulders as I sobbed against his chest. "Sometimes things just happen."

"M-my mom died too." My throat burned as I whispered hoarsely. I didn't want my best friend to die.

"We can't think like that, Perry. We have to believe she's going to live. Leukemia is scary, but Sarah's doctor is hopeful that treatment can help her." He patted my back and then stepped away a little. He tilted my face up, and I could see he was sad too. He had tears in his eyes, but he didn't cry. I tried to wipe mine away too. Men weren't supposed to cry, Dad said.

"Sarah needs us to be strong." I nodded; Dad said that too. "It's all right to be sad, but that would make Sarah sad too. We want her to be happy, okay? Can you visit her and try to do that?"

I bit my lip to stop its trembling. "I can be happy for Sarah." I wiped my face on my shirt and stood as tall as I could.

"I got a new game today. Can I go get it and come back?" I could try to forget what I saw on that paper and the vision I'd seen of my ten year old best friend laying cold and lifeless, just like my mom, in a black coffin. I bent over and picked up the letter he'd dropped, carefully keeping it folded to hide away what I didn't want to know anymore.

"Sure, Perry. She'd like that."

Prompt response from GA Prompt 219: A letter was mistakenly delivered to you. You had opened and read it before you realized it wasn’t meant for you. What was the letter about and what do you do about it?

 

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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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