love story {afi}

the envelope

because of 'r u mine?' blasting as loud as her speakers would go, charlie didn't hear the doorbell ring. because she was dancing around, throwing that ass in a circle, she didn't see the hand slip an envelope through the letterbox. she didn't see that envelope until her mum came in to her room, holding it in her hand.

"charlotte williams. you're eighteen years old, and you should be living in your own house. although you can't manage that, you should at the very least be able to fetch your own post."

charlie smiled innocently at the woman standing in front of her bed, got up and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "have i ever told you how much i love you and appreciate everything you do?"

charlie's mum rolled her eyes but kissed her on the cheek, before passing her the envelope. "here. it looks weird and someone clearly hand-posted it because it has no address on it. all it says is 'for charlie'"

charlie frowned, looking down at the familiar handwriting. she didn't think that would be a scribble she'd ever see again.

"thanks mum."

mrs williams took the hint and left the blonde girl staring at the envelope. just before she shut the door, however, she smiled sadly at her daughter. "good boys are hard to find, charlie. you found one, and then you let him go. be careful not to do that again."

and with another soft smile, she shut the door and walked back down the stairs. staring at the door in shock, charlie lowered herself down on to her bed.

confused, she ripped open the envelope. she reached her hand in to it and withdrew eleven smaller envelopes and a piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped out of a notebook. she let the small envelopes fall on to her bed and held the note. taking a couple of deep breaths, charlie turned it over in her hands and began to read.

thirty minutes later, charlie had read the note three times and read all the envelopes, which contained songs. they were numbered one, two, three, four, etc all the way up to eleven; presumably so she could read them in an order.

at that point she had never been more confused in her eighteen years of life, but decided to bear with and read the stories that were stapled to the songs.