The morning sun filtered its way through the kitchen binds, spilling soft stripes across the kitchen table. The house feels empty without Tee in it.
Aunt Fiona was already by the stove frying up some plantain. I love plantain so much.
"Morning" she said while placing a cup of water before me.
"You barely slept, did you?"
"I wasnt really tired ". I shrugged
" you have been writing again?"
I froze for half a heartbeat. "A little"
She nodded, then flipped a piece of plantain.
"My sister, your mother used to write when she couldn't sleep too, said words were better company than silence."
I smiled faintly. " maybe that's where I got them from"
Then she placed the plate infront of me made of toast, eggs and the plantain.
And for a while we sat and ate breakfast in quiet.
" you know, it's okay to talk sometimes, Aria. You don't have to keep everything on paper"
I met her eyes. " sometimes it's better that way."
She nodded in understanding and I know she was trying not to push it. " just remember to let people in once in a while , okay?"
"Okay " I whispered back.
When she stood up to drop her plate, she hesitated and said " Try to smile more today, you have a beautiful smile and your mom loved it when you did"
And then she picked her bag, smiled at me again and walked out of the door.
I took out a book from my bag and wrote at the back of it.
Dear orbelle,
Some people say the world doesn't stop for anyone. But maybe it pauses but just a little for those learning to begin again.
Because beginning again isn't weakness. It's bravery in disguise. It's waking up one morning and saying, " fuck it! Maybe I can try again, even if I'm still scared." Sometimes, life doesn't ask if you're ready; it just hands you a new chapter and you just have to start reading. You will notice that growing up is different emotions trying to get the best of you and you barely catch a breath. But that's okay! All you have to do is embrace it all,that's the beauty to growing up.
As for habits, start small. Filter the ones that calls out the best in you, write down your thoughts, breathe before reacting, say thank you even when things feel hard. Those tiny things? They become who you are.
And if grief ever visits you, whether it's the loss of a person, a dream, or a version of yourself , don't fight it. Let it sit with you, embrace it, Let it teach you. You'll find that healing isn't about forgetting; it's about remembering differently.
The truth is, everyone is learning to begin again somehow. Some hide it better, but we're all figuring out how to carry hope again. So be gentle with yourself, love yourself and be kind to you . You're not behind. You're just becoming.
Love,
A
When I got to school, the sun was already all out, my hair in a ponytail. My backpack slung over one shoulder. The chatter of student filled the courtyard. Half laugher, half groans about morning classes but it all felt like background noises to me.
Grace waved from the hallway ahead, her voice bright and loud
" you were almost late again"
I laughed and hugged her.
"Can I borrow your Maths notebook, I didn't finish the last note"
"Sure" I gave it to her from my bag
"Just don't misplace it, you know you do that a lot"
She made a mock salute. "Scout honor "
By mid-morning, the first periods blurred together. Literature,biology then the endless bell that marked break.
Grace sat humming a song as usual, that girl seriously should have been a humming bird but I love it, it feels up the silence.
We sat down under a tree close to the library.
Then she remembered she had left something at the library so she ran off.
When the bell rang again, I picked up her purse and decided to head to class and wait for her.
Landon's POV;
The library was quiet this afternoon, I walked in earbuds, scanning for a place to sit and that's when I saw it. A note book
I picked it up. The handwriting on the cover was very familiar, her name was on the cover.
I went through it and smiled. She always wrote like someone afraid to press the pen too hard.
And I found the last page. I hesitated at first but the words kept pulling me in and I had to read it. The words kept pulling me in.
Her words felt alive, raw and refreshing. I don't know if she purposely left this book here. But knowing her , she wouldn't do that.
She didn't write for attention, she wrote like breathing.
I remembered how the first letter touched everyone. Maybe they need this second one too.
I looked around and took out my phone. A few clicks , quiet upload.
Just the words, no context, no name.
Within minutes, it was live on the school platform.
I didn't do it for credits.i wanted them all to feel what I felt while reading it.
I closed the notebook and placed it back on the table.
But Guilt pooled in my stomach. Aria trusted me at least to a certain point. Will she ever trust me if she gets to know if it was me ?
I contemplated and walked out of the library almost accidentally hitting Grace.
Aria's POV;
By the time I got my notebook from Grace . She was breathless and apologized for leaving it behind at the library and that was the reason she rushed to get it.
I didn't think much. I just put it back into my my back pack.
The day unfolded like any other day except it wasn't.
By lunch time, whispers had begun weaving through the hall. People were passing phones around. I wondered what type of gossip it was this time. There was always gossip online!
But as I passed one table, a voice said out softly
" have you seen the dear orabelle letter? It's even better than the first one.
My step faltered.
Another student laughed. " whoever A is , definitely is a psychic because she reads our mind"
"What are they talking about" Grace asked as she sat down and pulled out her phone.
" oh my! Another dear orabelle episode."
And then Grace sat infront of me and read out what I had written just to myself this morning.
The confusion, the realization, the chatters, my heart beating so fast, that it could burst out.
"This is very beautiful " Grace said in between sandwich. Bringing me back from my mind .
I had forgotten everything.
"Don't you think?" She asked again.
" I will take a look, a good look at it" I stuttered.
Just then Landon walked in, scanning the cafeteria and finally setting eyes on me.
He only nodded and smiled and picked up a tray.
My throat tightened, sweats on my palms.
All I could think of was how did that letter get out. I kept scanning my mind, just then my eyes landed on my maths notebook beside my tray. I opened the last page and there it was, the letter I had written this morning.
I quickly closed the book and kept it on my laps.
I looked at Grace wondering if she was the one that leaked out the letter. But she seemed clueless while she aimlessly ate on her sandwich.
It couldn't be her. I scanned the hall, staring at faces just to know if I could find anything but everyone and everything seemed normal.
Landon kept staring at me from his table but the instant our eyes met. He looked away.
It wasn't him, I told myself. I mean how could he…it just wasn't possible.
The bell rang and we picked up our trays.
" imagine being the person to write this, I d' die to meet them" Grace nudged me.
" yeah, me too" I said quietly.
" I need to find who this A is , or is it a teacher?" I heard a girl ask her friends while walking past us.
Their laughter and chatters filling the hallway
My words were out there again. This time, it just doesn't make sense.
Landon was at his locker,I caught his gaze. At that moment every other things went blur even Grace and her yappings. He was staring at me not curiosly but knowingly . It was like he understood everything already without needing to ask.
My breath hitched.
I wondered why.
I just looked away.
The rest of the day passed in fragments. Flashes of laughter, whispered theories.
By the final bell, I gave a sigh of relief.i couldn't wait to get away from here.
Landon was at my locker when I got there.
" Let me walk you home" he said seeming unsure. " unless you are not okay with it" he added quickly.
" sure" I found myself saying .
We walked out together.
He cleared his throat. " I never got to offer my condolences, it must have been hard"
" yeah, thank you " I said quietly.
" what was she like?"
The question surprised me but excited me same time. I love talking about my mom.
We just talked about mom and other things, I felt a bit calm and better along the way.
" you okay ?" He asked eventually on getting closer to my place.
" I don't know, if I am being honest" I gave him a small smile.
" I just feel a bit strange, everyone be reading my heart out"
He smiled faintly. " maybe that's not such a bad thing"
" I think, you will be fine " he gently touched my shoulders.
" I will be on my way now" he said
" see you tomorrow Aria."
I felt this sudden heat rise on my cheeks and I wondered where that came from.
I waved at him as he crossed the road and walked away.
There was something about him that spells calm, soft and steady.
When I entered the house , aunty Fiona was lying on the couch.
" you are home early" I said while sitting on the chair next to her.
" yeah, home early to catch you with your Boyfriend " she snickered.
" you have been watching?" I asked shocked.
" yes, I watched. I am glad you are having normal school experiences and making friends"
" yeah and Landon isn't my boyfriend " I answered quickly.
The thought of that made sense to me. Then I caught myself. What is actually wrong with me? I need mind cleansing.
" I am going up to my room" I picked up my bag and started heading upstairs.
" Dinner will be ready soon" she yelled.
I opened my maths books and tore out the letter and put it in my drawer.
I opened my laptop and entered the school platform and there sat my words.
There were a lot of comments under the post.
People said lovely things, some were curious who orabelle was , some thought A was a boy.
Even Grace commented. " I will be delighted to meet you A"
I laughed, that girl was something else.
People from other classes engaged too.
Some said they will not rest till they find A or orabelle.
There were few negative comments too. Someone said " till they start writing each of our secrets out too."
Then a particular comment caught my eyes. " I am a great fan A, your words are truly beautiful"
I looked at the username and it didn't look like someone I know.
I opened my diary.
Dear orabelle,
Everyone is talking about our letter, about the girl or boy who writes like they have been broken and rebuilt a thousand times.
I don't know whether to be scared or grateful.
It feels strange, being seen this way.
Like standing in the middle of a crowded room, half-naked in truth,
but nobody knows your name.
Some say the letters are brave.
Some say they're too sad.
Maybe they're both.
Some think they might get prying with time.
Someone said they are beautiful and a huge fan.
I used to think writing was my way of hiding.
Now I think it's how I leave pieces of myself for others to find. Mom was right!
Maybe that's what healing really is
not erasing what hurt you,
but giving it a softer place to rest.
Love,
A
I stared at the book for a while and finally closing it. Somewhere inside me I heard that echo again.
Orabelle.
The sound was faint, like the breeze brushing against my window pane.
I smiled and stood To go have my bath.
I know dinner will soon be ready, so I gently waked into the bathroom and close the door behind me….