Dear Lucy, by LS
Lucy, I read out loud. I look at the envelop with my name on it. I pick up my little bag and put the
envelop in it. I put the bag around me while I walk out of my room and walk down the stairs. I walk in
the kitchen and see a basket full with fruit. I pick up the first apple that I see and take a bite from it. I
walk out the door and walk towards my bike that is outside. I put my apple in my mouth so I can
open my bike with my keys.
I’m on my way to a old mailbox that I once made. I’ve putted the mailbox at a lawn were nobody
comes. I always put a letter in the mailbox when I’m there and always the same person writes me
back. I can tell her everything.
She knows me better then my own friends do. Most of my friends find me mysterious and have a
feeling that I have a really big secret that only I know.
Nobody knows that I go every week to the same place just to send her a letter back. Were writing
each other for like a few months now. Sometimes she puts a little bear with the letter or something
like that. I think it’s cute.
I stop riding my bike and see at the side of the road a lot of cute flowers. I let go of my bike so it will
fall on the ground. I walk towards the flowers and look at it. I finish eating my apple and throw it
towards the bushes. I bend over and pick up a few flowers. After a minute I had a bunch of flowers. I
walk back to my bike and pick my bike up from the ground. I put the flowers in my little basket. And
start to ride my bike again
There it is, I whisper to myself. I look in the distance and see the pink mailbox that I placed their a
few months ago. I get the bunch of flowers out of the basket on my bike and let go of my bike so it
will fall on the lawn. I open the mailbox and see a letter with my name on it. I replace the letter with
mine that I wrote. I also put the flowers in the mailbox and walk away. I sit on the ground while my
back leans on the tree behind me.
Dear Lucy,
You’ve been writing yourself for a few months now. Waiting every week for a letter that you wrote
yourself. It’s isn’t that weird. Instead of having a diary you just write yourself every week and read
it like it’s a letter from someone else.
So how was your week. Mine was kind of hectic. One of my closest friends is depressed and tells me
everything. She once asked me if I cut myself because she thought it and I said no. I feel so bad for
lying to her. She tells me everything about her cutting while I can’t even tell her about my issue. I
just can’t tell her nobody can know it. Only you.
Xx Lucy