Valen
The days spent over spring break have been both mundane and repetitive. Carl was busy "planning his wedding" with Nathaniel, which was something I definitely did not want to be a part of. He's been making heart-eyes at that man ever since I could remember. And as much as I didn't want to admit it—actually fuck it, I do—I hated Nathaniel with all my passion. He was a massive playboy. The man would date people, pretend to like them, and then cheat on them like nothing happened. I'm pretty sure Nathaniel doesn't even like Carl, he's just dating him because he's easy.
Anyway, the only bright side of spring break was one—I didn't have to go to school, and two—I got to hang out with Roxanne more often. She's been texting me non-stop ever since school's been let out, and I'm honestly not complaining. She's such an adorable texter. I mean… the way she types is strangely charming. The amount of extra letters she adds at the end of words could annoy some, but it comforts me. My grudge I held so strictly for a long time with her had slowly diminished the closer I've let her in. Every smile, every touch, every damn letter she writes for me… my heart is filled with a certain warmth that makes me eternally full.
Roxanne…
A loud knock echoed throughout the house, the wooden panels of flooring shaking slightly from its force. My body froze, patiently (or impatiently) waiting for Carl to answer the door, but the knocking continued. I sighed. He must be in the basement, working for hours browsing wedding cake catalogues.
"Valen, could you get that please?" He called from two stories below.
Groaning, I dragged my body out of my covers, my feet lazily attacking the steps under me. The floorboards creaked under my weight, a subtle whine in the noise. My muscular legs paused when they reached the main floor, my eyes scanning the flight of stairs.
"I'm not that heavy, c'mon…" I scoffed, crossing my toned arms in annoyance.
My remark was cut short by another set of loud knocks. Whoever was out there did not appreciate the act of waiting, that's for sure. Like come on, be a little patient with me here! I didn't know that I was the one supposed to greet the visitor.
As the door flew open from my rather aggressive pull, I saw Caspian in front of me, a worried expression plastered onto his light tan skin. A crisp white letter was clutched in his rough hands, finished with a circular carmine seal in the middle. In the corner of the envelope was a royal blue stamp with little stars bordered around the edges.
It looked like home.
He cautiously extended his arm towards mine, an immediate red flag. Why would he look this nervous being my personal mailman if there wasn't a grenade inside? There had to be something suspicious inside that pouch.
I could tell my suspicions were correct when Caspian's eyes furrowed and his irises bore into mine. His hands shook with the envelope, practically begging for my hand to take the envelope away. I hesitated slightly, the fear in his gaze starting to affect my trust in him. Not that I trusted him, anyway—he was always testing my patience. But right now…? I did not want to take that letter from his grasp.
"Valen…" Caspian started, annoyance growing in his voice.
I immediately snatched the envelope away. Dealing with his temper would be a major hassle, a certain hassle that I didn't want to deal with. His grip on the envelope loosened, allowing me to take the mail completely. His furrowed brows softened, his eyes growing warmer. My thin eyebrows raised in skepticism.
Why the fuck is he giving me that face?
"So um…see ya..?" I spoke in a croaky, confused tone.
Caspian dashed awkwardly into the woods, leaving me standing alone on our front doorstep, letter in hand. My eyes followed the exact path he had taken into the lush green abyss, taking note of his mannerisms and shaky limbs. Whatever was in the envelope, I was dying to rip open. Was it a time bomb? Was it his boyfriend's crusty toenail? All I could think about was the tiny little package hugged by my fingers.
My feet raced towards the kitchen, my socks not particularly caring that I was at risk for a concussion by travelling on this floor. The slick wooden flooring was certainly not a good choice for a dining room, and certainly not for my clumsy ass.
"Valen, the fuck you doing down there?" Carl called from the basement.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, "Nothing, Dad!"
"Quiet down then! You're pestering Nathaniel with all that noise!"
My eyes narrowed once more. Crap, was Nathaniel down there too? This had to be the worst spring break to date. Why the fuck did Carl have to invite this absolute douchebag to our home like he was already his husband? That man would never be welcome here, no matter how often Carl says otherwise.
As my fingers danced across the silverware, finding the best steak knife to cut into the crisp white paper, my eyes stopped at one particular spoon in the drawer. It was round, yes, but it was far rounder than any spoon I've ever seen. Its shape was a perfect circle, adorned with tiny strawberries at the top and bottom. I assumed that the spoon was likely my Grandma Nancy's kitchenware, and that Carl had inherited it after she passed away. However, I couldn't be so sure due to my vague understanding of my adoptive father's family tree. He's never been too open with his family—well, besides Aunt Becky—I'm not sure if he even talks with his father anymore.
Regardless, I had to open this damn envelope. My curiosity was far too vast now to ignore it. My fingers searched for a knife for what seemed like forever until a pointy, jagged edge brushed across my fingertips. A crisp steak knife was held in between my index, thumb, and middle fingers, the handle having a slight weight that made picking it up more than effortless. Raising the knife towards the paper, I slowly slid the tip of the knife under the opening.
RRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPP!
A small piece of paper slipped out onto the wooden counter like it was dying to escape. The paper was lone—no other contents resided inside. I calmly unfolded the letter, my breath coming to an unintentional halt. As the letter became fully unraveled, my eyes skimmed over the top of the page, searching for whatever Caspian could be concerned about. The pupils of my eyes dilated, my arms beginning to shake uncontrollably.
What the fuck was this…?
My jaw hit the hard tile floor. Whoever wrote this, this absolute joke of a letter, needed to be sent to an asylum immediately.
Valen,
Cara's dead. Guess who's next…