Children's Draft

Chapter 19 (Part One)

(Rose's PoV)

    Our online video chat was now meeting on a weekly basis. I didn't dare ask, but I had hoped it would continue into the start of the school year. It was nice feeling like I had friends.

    A new face appeared among the ones on the screen. She was a tall, skinny girl with caramel colored hair behind a teal headband. She spent most of her time looking down. "Umm...hi," she mumbled. "I'm Joy van Bella. Alisha told me about this group. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

    Alisha laughed. "It's okay, Joy. Everybody here is super nice."

    "Yeah," Trixie beamed. "We're always excited to make new friends."

    "She's just a little shaken up cuz her asshole ex-boyfriend cheated on her," Alisha explained.

    We all took turns shit talking a guy we had never even met. After a while, Joy managed to muster out a smile. "Thanks for the support," she told us. "It's nice to have more people than just Daniel to talk to."

    "Ooh! What's Daniel like?" Trixie interjected.

    Joy tripped over her words at first. "Well...he's definitely a germaphobe, but he's sweet and sensitive and intelligent and kind-"

    Trixie's clapping cut her off. "You two sound like you'd be perfect together."

    Joy blushed a little bit. "I mean..."

    "Trixie, you always get way too involved in other people's business," Trixie's friend, Heather chided.

    Trixie didn't seem to be bothered at all by this statement and just kept smiling at Joy.

    The conversation slowly turned from individual boys to war in general. It gave our chats a somber tone, but it was sort of the reason the chats got started in the first place. A place to vent. I rarely made any actual contributions to the conversation, but I enjoyed having people to listen to.

    We talked for about an hour and a half and then Emmy had to leave for swim practice and Heather wanted to study, so we all decided to get off.

    I made my way to the kitchen and when I tried to throw the cap of my water bottle away, I saw something that I hadn't seen in over a year: Will's handwriting.

    I dug my fingers into the trashcan to pull the envelope out. I brushed away the leftover microwave burrito bits covering parts of it, revealing my name in the center. The letter had already been opened, but I took the sheet out.

    It really was him. So many emotions swept over me. I could only process a few words at a time. Back. Prison Camp. Keep in touch.

    Will was alive.

    My momentary relief was replaced by anger, as I found myself storming upstairs to my mother's room, letter still in hand.

    "You bitch!" I screamed, trying not to cough amongst all the smoke.

    My mother looked up, unamused. "What is it now?"

    My voice was shaking as I held up the letter. "Will's alive and you didn't even bother to tell me."

    She took a swig of vodka. "I didn't think you'd care to know."

    I remained silent.

    "After all," she continued. "Why should you care if he's alive or not? If I remember correctly, that boy tried to kill you."

    "He didn't mean to," I retorted. "He's not intentionally cruel like you."

    An empty bottle flew past me. Luckily my mom didn't have the best aim. "I don't wanna head another word from you, you ungrateful little-"