HIS POV :
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After a few days of dropping my letter, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The whole thing felt stupid now. What was I even expecting? So I decided to go back and pick it up before someone else found it. The problem was... I'd sealed it with that rose crest without thinking twice. And now all I could imagine was someone reporting it. Thankfully, I hadn't written my name or address anywhere. If my father ever discovered I had done something like that... he would never forgive me. No... he'd probably say I'd ruined the family's reputation and be done with me.
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He always expected so much from me. And I... well, I never managed to live up to any of it. Every failure just reminded me how little I was worth. I shouldn't have written that letter, but I was alone. And loneliness doesn't make people logical, it makes them desperate. I let out a long breath, kicking at the pebbles as I walked down the hill.
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When I reached the place, I slowed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. The area was usually deserted, that's why I had chosen it. No one could see me dropping the letter here. And the distance from my house made it feel like a bonus layer of secrecy.
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I stepped under the shade of the old tree and approached the wooden box where I had left my letter. Nervously, I lifted the lid and froze. My letter wasn't there. Instead, a completely different one sat inside. For a moment, I stood stunned. Someone had found my letter... and they wrote back.
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A sharp, warm rush spread through my chest. The guilt that had been weighing me down suddenly loosened its grip. I grabbed the new letter and shoved it into my pocket, then turned and ran uphill as fast as I could. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I didn't stop.
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I couldn't believe it. I was nervous, thrilled, terrified, hopeful- everything at once. I kept thinking, If I could just vanish from here and appear in my room right now, I would. If teleportation was real, I'd be the first one to use it. But unfortunately, God didn't bless humans with that ability.
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I finally reached home, kicked off my shoes, and rushed toward the stairs. But before I could escape, my mother stepped into my path. Her eyes were sharp, her jaw tight, like she was barely holding herself back.
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"Where were you?" she asked, her voice low but edged with irritation.
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"Um... I was just wandering around," I muttered.
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"Wandering?" Her voice rose. "Don't you have anything better to do? Your father works so hard for this family... for this country... but you? You don't care about anything. How can you be so shameless?" Frustration hardened her face in a way that was far too familiar.
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I tried to remember if she had ever smiled at me without looking disappointed... or disgusted. Even when I was little, they were always cold. Maybe I had always been a disappointment. Maybe I deserved that look.
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"Are you lost in your thoughts again? Oh God... this boy," she groaned, exasperated.
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Yes. I was lost in thought again. It was something my mind did on its own whenever my parents raised their voices. But saying that aloud would only make things worse.
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"No, Mom. I'm listening to you. I'm sorry," I said quickly.
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"Do you have any idea how many people don't even have food on their plate? Your father and I work ourselves to the bone so you never have to face that. But instead of being grateful and helping this family, you stay locked in your own world," she snapped, almost shouting by the end.
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I stared at the floor, shoulders shrinking in on themselves, my mouth opening and then closing again. I wanted to say something. Explain myself. Apologise properly. Promise I'd try harder this time.
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But I didn't know how to say any of it.
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So I just sighed, eyes glued to the tiles beneath my feet, trying to swallow the burning heaviness in my chest.
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Both of us stood there in silence for a moment, neither willing to move. My shoulders were hunched and my eyes fixed on the floor, trying to avoid her gaze. Guilt and pain churned in my chest, while my mother looked at me with a mix of anger and hopelessness.
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“Your sister’s father-in-law has come to visit our house,” she finally said, breaking the heavy pause.
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My elder sister was married last year. Her husband was a lieutenant in the Navy, and his father served as the Adjutant General. It wasn’t surprising—my father had always surrounded himself with influential people like him.
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“Oh…” I muttered.
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“Go sit with your father,” my mother instructed sharply.
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“B-but… what would I even say?” The panic slipped out before I could stop it.
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“Don’t act like a child. Show some responsibility. You’re seventeen, not five,” she snapped, finality ringing through her voice.
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I knew there was no point arguing. Anxiety had been a part of me for as long as I could remember, making me stumble over even the smallest things. I could tell my parents hated that about me. Sometimes, I hated it too.
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I exhaled shakily, then forced myself toward the room where my father sat with my sister’s father-in-law. I greeted them both politely and took a quiet seat beside my father.
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They nodded in response and continued their conversation. I was thinking of the letter in my pocket while they talked, unable to take my mind off it until something they said caught my attention.
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Sister’s father-in-law: “He can go if our country ever faces something like that.”
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My father: “He’s a coward. He’d be more trouble than help. If that day comes, I’ll be the one who goes.”
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Sister’s father-in-law: “He’s not a child anymore. Countries need young men to fight. And your son fits perfectly.”
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I froze. Were they talking about war? Did he want me to go to war? My blood turned cold. I didn’t want to go. I was terrified of blood. But I didn’t want my father to go either. He was older now… and war was dangerous.
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My father noticed my expression and his jaw clenched.
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My father: “Look at him. He can’t even handle a conversation about war. You think he could handle bullets?”
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Before his friend could reply, my father turned to me. “You should be ashamed to call yourself a man. Get out of my sight.”
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I had heard his anger my entire life, but the words still stung. But he was right, I was a coward. I couldn't even speak up for myself.
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I stood up quietly and slipped away upstairs.
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I lay down on my bed, yet another privilege from my parents that many others didn’t have. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. Even with my eyes closed, my mind wouldn’t stop running back to what my sister’s father-in-law said. Why would I or my father go to war? We weren’t in the army. Did our empire even need conscripts? And weren’t we winning? The Emperor himself had said so. Then why did they need more soldiers?
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I let out a heavy sigh. I would never know the truth. And I couldn’t question the Emperor or the army, or else everyone would call me a traitor.
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I stayed there for a few minutes before finally taking the letter out of my pocket.
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“I didn’t forget you. I was just trying to calm down,” I whispered to it.
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I got up and read the letter. Once. Twice. Thrice. It made me smile. For a moment, I forgot all the fear and sadness from downstairs. My mind felt light… for the first time in a long while.
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“This response isn’t very friendly, but at least someone cared enough to reply. Whoever wrote this seems angry… but it’s still sweet. This is the nicest anyone has ever spoken to me. It means a lot,” I muttered under my breath, smiling.
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I decided to write back immediately.
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______________________________________________________________________
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Hey,
No, I honestly didn’t expect anyone to find my letter, and especially not someone who would actually reply. But I’m glad you wrote back. You sound a little annoyed, though I’m hoping my charm will eventually turn that annoyance into you waiting eagerly for my next letter. *eye wink*
I’m pleased that I exceeded your expectations. I’m used to people going “aww” over me. *another eye wink*
About the crest—you do realize it’s not real gold or even copper, right? *chuckling* They’re just regular crests that happen to look fancy enough to be called “high class.” It’s nothing special. I have plenty lying around at home and, during war, who knows which letter might be your last, hmm? So why not use it, right?
From what you said, I’m guessing your family is from the working class? Yet you still picked up the letter with a “high-class” crest. And you didn’t stop there—you opened it and even wrote back. And, your response was kinda mean, by the way. You’ve got guts, don’t you? Would you have dared to say all that to my face? *laughing* If we were talking in person, I would’ve said that after a dramatic pause, just to spice things up, you know? *another eye wink*
It’s really admirable how much you do for your family. It must be hard, and I respect you for working so much. You don’t have the luxury to waste your time on random letters, yet you still did and even replied. I’m really thankful for that. Let’s say I owe you a favor for giving me your precious time.
But hey... you mentioned in your letter that you help your mother with cooking and cleaning, so I’m assuming you’re a girl? I really hope you are. *another eye wink*
And before you reply, "I won’t tell you my gender until you do". *Laughing*
Well… actually, I want you to know that I’m a boy. And I’m seventeen.
How old are you?
I can’t tell you my name or where I’m from because of my background, you know.
But come on, tell me yours. You don’t have any such issues, I hope? I’m just asking for a name. Pretty please? I promise I won’t bother you about where you live.
About your feelings toward my letter… honestly, your anger is completely justified. From your perspective, I’m just a spoiled brat who gets to sit down and write random letters while others suffer.
But ouch— that did hurt. *chuckling*
And maybe… even I have my side of the story.
Maybe we could slowly learn to understand each other. I’m happy, and thankful as well. Thankful that a part of you felt hope, something that has become so rare nowadays.
And I’m glad my letter brought you that.
Even to me, the idea of sharing my feelings, my day-to-day life, and writing to a complete stranger feels oddly comforting. Maybe it’s this devastating time that brought us here… the war… the loneliness… all of it is eating me alive as well. I’m craving this little peace just as much as you are.
I agree that you’ve told me a few things about yourself, but come on, that’s far from a lot. And I think I’ve answered some of your questions as well.
I really believe we have a long way to go. We’ll learn about each other’s lives, beliefs, opinions… just like friends.
I’ll be waiting for your next letter.
Bye.
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I even added my emotions in the star symbols to make it more fun and realistic. I wrote whatever I would have done in real life.
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I carefully folded the letter, placed it inside an envelope, and sealed it with my rose crest. I waited for everyone to fall asleep before sneaking out of my house to slip my letter into the box.
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I knew I could have done it the next day but what if I was late and she had already checked the box and found it empty? Then I’d lose my only friend, and I didn’t want that.
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“I’ll be waiting for your reply. Please write me back,” I muttered to myself as I placed the letter in the box.
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After that, I returned to my house and quietly climbed back into my room through the window.
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