13-17 Group Second Place 2018

 

Past, Present, Future by Madison Rivas

 

The envelope looked as though it had been in the mailbox for years. The
writing was faded, but I could tell that it spelled my name: "Harper Flynn". There
wasn't any addresses on it, which left me confused as to how it ended up in my
mailbox, but I took it back to my apartment to read it anyways. The first thing I noticed
about the letter inside is that it's my handwriting, except I don't remember writing it.
The more I read it, the more I realized that it was a suicide note. I ran my fingers over
the name signed at the bottom, "Robin Patton", and was flung into a whirlpool of
memories: shaky hand writing the note, those same hands opening a bottle of pills to
swallow, and then blackness. When I came back from the vision, I was shaking and
crying, realizing that that was me in my past life.

A few years ago, I was in a tragic car accident that killed my parents and left
me with amnesia. No one came to the hospital to comfort me, so when I finally
returned home I was broken: no friends, no parents, no lover, and no memories. I had
nothing to live for anymore, and have been debating ending it all with a bottle of pills I
have in my bathroom, but something inside of me told me not to give in, and it
might've whatever sent me that note.

It took a while to fall asleep that night with the new memories and words of
Robin in my head, but once I did I immediately woke up in a dream. I couldn't see
myself but I could see a ghost or something slip the letter into that mailbox where I
would find it. The ghost looked familiar but I couldn't place it.

I woke up in a daze and had the urge to check the mailbox again. There was
another faded letter with my name on it with the same handwriting as Robin's suicide
note. This note was different as it was actually addressed to me. All it said was: "Now
that I have your attention, I don't want you to take your life as I did. I begged for my
soul to be brought back to live my life correctly, and I won't let you screw that up, so
toss the pills, take a deep breath, and go do something that isn't just waiting until your
last breath. Signed, Robin."

The letter seemed stupid to listen to, but if this Robin character is the only thing
going towards me actually living, then it's better than nothing. I decided to go to the
library to get out of my head for a bit, and found a book that looked interesting, but
when I opened it up, a Polaroid picture floated to the ground, and when I picked up, I
saw a picture of me with another girl at a pride parade, and something, maybe
Robin's voice, told me that maybe t~is picture would be something that could keep me
alive, too.