Letters to Michael - Part 3

"Well?" You asked. You tried to sound indifferent but inside you were on fire.

"Well, you're still writting those letters, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do! But how can this-"

"You now must send them. It's time for him to read them. "

At first, nothing was being said. You were just staring each other. Who could blame you, though? You came all the way down to Starbucks with your sister just to hear her say that you need to send your letters. And if you heard her right, you had to send them to Michael, your husband who was supposed to be dead for quite some time.

"He's YSN and you are aware of that, I'm afraid..." you whispered softly after some time.

"I also am aware that your husband is not dead, but trapped in a place he no longer wants to be!" your sister's voice was dead serious, but for some reason you could not believe her words. Something did not seem right...

"And how do you know Michael is trapped somewhere?"

"You have to believe me, YN..." YSN  sighed, " Look, I know that this is a serious thing and that you actually can have your doubts about what I'm saying, but please do believe me when I say Michael did not die on June 25th..."

"But...but...I saw the ambulance coming all the way to our home and...and the news said he was dead..." you now were in the verge of tears. Your chest tightened at the memory of your husband being rushed to the hospital and then being called dead.

"I know, love... you just need some time..." Your sister was now holding both of your hands trying to calm you down a bit.

Her gesture made you feel a bit better. You felt like you were not alone in this and that someday you had to actually believe your sister's words. Michael being alive sounded surreal though. Was it worth it to give it a try and send Michael those letters?

"Maybe I should give it a try..." You finally said.

Your sister's eyes lit up with relief.

"Great! All you need to do is to leave all the letters you've been writting to the spot he loved to relax when he would come home from work. Do this every time you write a letter, right before you go to sleep... I'm sure it's going to work!"

"Thank you... I hope you're right..." you said as you wiped a tear that was running down your cheek.

Without saying another word about the subject, you and your sister drank your coffees and chatted about girly stuff. You really missed doing this with your sister and you were glad that you finally had the chance to go out with her. It honestly made you feel better about yourself and less moody.

A few hours later

Time for dinner had already come. It was the first time after a very long time that you actually were excited about it. You walked all the way to your kitchen, where you picked all the ingredients for your favourite meal; seafood boil with corn and potatoes. You managed to buy the needed ingredients right after the coffee you drank with your sister at Starbucks.

God bless that girl... she always knew how to lift your spirits, even if she sometimes told you weird things... and yet, the weirdest of them all was that your husband was actually alive. You hoped that he was not being tortured wherever he was being trapped... You would not handle it if your baby boy was the one who suffered just because someone else had to feed his peculiar appetite...

The seafood boil was ready right before you knew it. You carefully filled a bowl and took your sit to the table. That's when you started munching on your food and thinking about the condition Michael was in... You just wished he was ok....

November 29th,2018

Neverland Ranch

Dear Michael,

Today I heard the most exciting yet terrifying news of my life. With that being said, I decided to add another letter to my huge pile of unsent letters.

A few hours ago, I decided to go out after a while. I thought it would be great, if you take into account that I've been locked up to the house for quite some time. That's when I fell on my sister; or should I say that's when my sister fell on me? Anyway, we went to Starbucks to grab a drink. And then, she spilled the tea. She told me you're still alive; she told me you're in a place that for some reason you cannot escape.

And what I would like to know is this: is this true, baby? Are you hurt? Is someone torturing you? Can I help you come back? If you ever read my letters, especially this one, could you give me a sign you're not dead?

Yours forever,

YN

After you finished writting your letter, you placed your blue fountain pen a few inches away from the paper. You sighed and carefully folded the letter. Then, you placed it inside an elegant folder, which you tied up with a beautiful crimson red ribbon.

"Red was your favourite colour..." you whispered softly. A single tear ran to your high cheekbone and fell on your red plump lips.

Wanting to finish this as soon as possible, you took all the letters you've been writting all these years and placed them to the fireplace in the living room. Michael loved sitting by the fireplace and do things he loved when he wanted to relax. So, without any hesitation, you placed the letters there and went straight to your bed, hoping to sink in a peaceful sleep.