the letter (closed)
where: In front of her brother’s dorm room. when: January 10, 1978. 12:47 am. who: @edgxrbxnxs @momelinebones @dadwardbones
Sleep never came easily to Amelia Bones. Even as a newborn, the walls of the Bones home echoed with the sound of their youngest daughter’s wails in the dead of night. And as she grew older, her already erratic sleeping pattern only worsened. Amelia acquired the nasty little habit of trading hours of sleep in favor of studying. It seemed more efficient, in a way. It made more sense to spend hours studying for her classes rather than staring up the ceiling waiting to fall into a dreamless rest. But now? After she had witnessed the horrors that took place in the little village that once held such fond memories? After she had cast unforgivable curses, willingly taken a man’s free will without so much as hesitating?
Amelia hasn’t slept since.
The rest of her dorm mates had long since fallen into the land of dreams, but Amelia laid wide awake in bed, plagued by the memory of what she witnessed. That people lost parents, lost mothers. That dozens laid injured in the Hospital Wing. That other’s weren’t so lucky. That children lost parents. That parents lost children. That she had seen horrible things. That she had done horrible things. That her world would never be the same. Once again her thoughts crept toward the letter buried deep in her belongings. It seemed smart at the time. Out of sight, out of mind, she told herself as she shoved it deep into the contents of her drawer. It was silly of her really. As if the removing the letter from her periphery would stop it from plaguing her thoughts.
No matter her rationalizations, no matter the hours she spent pondering the contents of the letter. What if it was simply a joke, a twisted black joke played by a stupid teenager or a colleague? What if it was intended for another person? None of those conclusions satisfied her, it was always the worst one, that gnawed at her being. But she couldn’t do that anymore. She needed answers. What if - what if her parents were targeted - and - and - she hadn’t told anyone about the letter. What if she could have stopped it and she didn’t? It would have all been her fault. She could have stopped it. But she didn’t because of What would Edgar say if he found out? Edgar. She had to tell Edgar. Yes. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do. He would help. He always did. He had to help. He had to.
The next five minutes seemed an almost blur - Get up. Get letter. Put on dressing gown. Find slippers. Try not to wake up roommates. Apologize to Rita for waking her up. When she finally found herself in front of Edgar’s dormitory, one hand wound tight around that cursed letter and the other aimed to knock on the tall wooden door, she hesitated. No. She couldn’t. Not anymore. She had to do this. She had to get answers.
“Eddie - please. I need to talk to you.”
@edgxrbxnxs