02 | E

IT TOOK THREE months before the letters started being delivered, each of them trickling towards their respective recipients.

The first letter was received by a boy who prior to befriending Serena, had built a notorious reputation for himself.

Dubbed the giver of broken noses, described as a predator who looked ready to pounce at any given moment, glaring at everyone who even risked a peak in his direction and vacated the principal's office so frequently that it became his second home — Declan Jones was no angel.

Everyone warned Serena against the boy, saying that he was a trouble-maker, nothing that she needed atop her already full plate but she merely waved them off.

"He just needs a friend." had been her memorable reiteration each time someone questioned why she wanted to bother with such a delinquent. That was the type of person Serena was, always seeing the good in everyone even if they couldn't quite see it in themselves.

No one predicted their friendship to have lasted as long as it did, nor knew what she saw in him to stay by his side for over 3 years.

If they had given him a chance, they would've seen what she saw. Serena saw, she saw through him. Saw that the dark brooding male who was infamous for breaking noses was actually a boy who was hurting, and whose past was the reason he had turned out the way he did.

Untrusting, violent, angry; their pasts were devastatingly similar, the only difference between them was he chose to act it out differently than her.

The first letter was received by Declan Jones.

***

IT WAS ONLY eight in the morning but Declan Jones was already awake, mind still fresh with the events that had occurred a few months prior.

Not a day went by in which he regretted not seeing the signs sooner.

The way her eyes seemed dimmer than usual and the way she had seemed to be lost in her thoughts, never paying attention to the conversations they'd have during lunch. He tossed and turned repeatedly in his bed before sighing as he lifted himself out of his bed. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep.

Slipping on his slippers, he walked out to the porch of his house to collect the daily delivery of Jones mail.

Given that he was the early riser in the house, he had taken it upon himself to begin collecting the daily letters that were mailed his parents. He ignored the fact that most of them were overdue bills and sky-high loans and instead concentrated on the positive side of the letters

Overdue bills just meant that the bills were being paid at a later time that month.

Loans might have meant that his parents were investing in new properties.

One might laugh at how optimistic Declan might seem or, like most others, puzzled at his change of attitude.

From a brooding and quiet male, he had done a complete 180˚; teachers now had to ask him to let others try answering and students seemed bewildered that Declan Jones was the one offering to lend them notes for the class they'd miss.

One might even claim he was glad Serena was gone.

These only scratched the surface of the rumours as the fingers behind the screen typed up fresh new conspiracies of what could have propelled his character change.

No one understood that Declan's character change was his way of coping. Like Serena's facade of pretending she was okay—this was his. If he didn't pretend that he was alright, that the world was fine, he would fall. If he fell, he didn't know if he could climb back up.

He closed his eyes, the memories beginning to rush through him, each one sharper than the last. Sometimes if he tried hard enough, he could cancel her voice in his head or briefly halt the nightmares he kept having every night of her bleeding wrists and mouth open in a silent cry for help.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of the still-fresh wound as he flipped through the letters one by one.

Eyes flitting across them absentmindedly until his eyes landed on one addressed to him.

His curiosity peaked, it wasn't everyday that he received a letter. Never mind one in such pristine and official packaging. He turned the plain-white letter around and examined it while entering his house slowly, closing the door behind him shut.

"There won't be any harm in reading it...right? Right," he reassured himself as he tore open the letter and began to read.

***

DEAR DECLAN,

Gosh, this is so awkward knowing that if you received this means that I actually followed through with my — well, I don't need to finish this sentence.

Declan let out a bitter smile. She didn't.

I know you're feeling helpless right now, but I hope this letter will bring you some comfort over my passing.

There was a reason I decided to befriend you, Declan. It wasn't just because I wanted to 'cure' you of your 'anger issues', I saw more than that. During my after school hours while volunteering at the teacher's office to source new potential students, I chanced upon your social file. Your file... struck a chord in me.

The brisk wind blew in a chill breeze that froze his bones and heart to the core. That sentence caused Declan to flinch, as if he had been physically struck. His social file wasn't pleasant. It detailed the excruciating abuse he had suffered as a child alongside other charges that his guardians at the time faced.

Our lives are more similar than you think, Declan. The way we just choose to act it out is different. Everyone told me you were 'bad news' but I knew otherwise. I knew exactly what you needed because I needed that too. A friend that knew exactly what I was going through. A friend that could relate to me, could understand me without judgement.

Trust me, it wasn't easy getting you to let down your walls — and I'm sorry I'm choosing to betray the trust you've given me by leaving you but I just....I can't explain it. The weight on my chest is growing too heavy for me to bear. I can't breathe anymore, Declan. And I know that you will be alright.

I've seen you fight your demons head on, and succeed. With my earlier aid, I see you stepping out of your shell. It's what keeps me going, that without me, you can continue to thrive and flourish.

Declan, you're one of the best people I've ever met in my entire life ; and I'm not saying this just for the sake of it being my final adieu.

You made me stay.

When Facebook was just becoming a trend you helped me deal with the bullies posting pictures from when I was still just a freshman coming to school everyday with my hair done in two pig-tails but... the words left scars.

Their words stuck with me long after freshman year was over. I thought I was fine, that I had healed from my traumas. I was wrong. So wrong. The scars never healed — they stung, and they stuck forever

Every so often, they say the stupid phrase of how "sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you", but to tell the truth, words are worse. Words leave mental scars that unlike physical scars, are so much harder to see. It only spurs them to say it more often, and each time it's worser than the last.

But, I digress. That isn't the purpose of my letter. I don't want you to go on a rampage in an attempt to 'avenge' me, no, none of that. I just want you to understand that my passing was inevitable. Coupled with the expectations everyone had of me, it was only a matter of time before I did what I did.

My letter, is to help you find peace in yourself.

You helped me in so many ways.

You knew me before everyone else did. the real me, before I became the 'excelled and gifted'.

You helped me, out of so many episodes, attended every party with me when neither Yas or Nessa were free.

You stayed with me in the mornings and nights, before and after. Every time. And for that, I'm so, so grateful.

I don't want you to push this blame on yourself. I don't want you to end up hating yourself because you wonder what you could have done.

There was nothing you could have done. Nothing.

You were my best guy friend but some things were better left unsaid. Just like how you and I both know, you need to stop pretending you're straight.

I know you're gay, Declan. I've known ever since I realised your platonic relationships with all girls and how uncomfy you acted around your parents when they mentioned the subject of relationships. And I've never treated you any differently, because at the end of the day, you're still my best-friend. There's nothing wrong with liking boys Declan, be proud of it.

I'm proud of you.

You are, in many ways, capable of so many things.

I'm sorry if my death has upset you, truly, I am.

It's been a wild ride, but it's been a real ride, Declan.

Thank you. For everything.

SINCERELY,

Serena Wilson

Declan's jaw unhinged itself. He shook the letter, hard, not quite believing the letter had reached its end. Were these the last few words he would receive from Serena?

The intensity and vigour of his shaking caused a small photo to plop out. Hands shaking, he held the photo up high.

It was the last photo of him and Serena. They had been at a basketball game, before he discovered of her past with Seth Naifeh, the alpha of the basketball team.

After he'd found out what transpired between the pair, he'd sworn off attending the matches. But still, they had made a pact to attend the first one of every season, if only for the rush of adrenaline it gave them. The deafening cheers and team spirit that echoed through the fields on the first game nights were always memorable.

They had unkempt that tradition for the past four years of their friendship, except, for this year. Serena had passed just as the first basketball season had commenced. Spectators and the audience in attendance present during the first game had held a white flower in respect for her.

As Declan looked at the photograph held in his left hand, and the letter in his right, he closed his eyes. Letting out a loose breath, he chuckled hard.

"Well I'll be damned. She did it again. Left me speechless even in death."

But Serena was right. Looking back at the photo Declan knew, she would be alright. She would always be alright wherever she went.

It was time for him to begin to forgive himself. With this, the first heart was beginning to heal.