"The Last Letter," by Olivia McKessey

I am setting the table for breakfast when he knocks on the door. I am not expecting anyone today, I wonder who it is. I do not know yet that I am about to receive the worst news of my life. I walk towards and open my front door. Standing there is Alix, my best friend, his beautiful green eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been drafted,” he cries, “for the war.” My heart shatters; I'm speechless. How could this have happened? I knew they were going to start selecting men, but I did not think it would be this early. I hide my terror for now, Alix is upset enough. I bring him over to the breakfast table and serve us both some bread, although we do more talking than eating. He tells me how he woke up this morning to a hard knocking on his door. When he sluggishly walked downstairs there was a soldier standing in the living room with his father. “And then he told me I've been selected to join the army.”

“But you’re too young!” I protest.

“I’m eighteen,” he says, wiping away tears. “I am a man now Nina, I’m old enough.” 

I want to tell him he’s only barely old enough and that he’ll never survive, but I think if I do, he’ll surely grow angry with me and leave. I feel an uncontrollable urge to kiss him, right here and now. I want to tell him I love him, and he cannot leave, and if he has to leave then I will pack my bags and go along with him. I know I will most likely be turned away by his sergeant at the train station but I do not care. I do not want him to leave me, ever. Instead I hug him tightly. “It will be okay,” I whisper. Though, I’m not completely sure if it is to him or myself. He hugs me back and I hear his sniffles dying out. His reddish brown hair tickles my neck, but I do not mind. After a minute, I realize we have been hugging for too long. My cheeks warm up as I pull back a little too suddenly, and Alix and I both look away from each other for a moment, embarrassed. We eat our bread together when I tell him he needs to eat even after he insists he’s not hungry. “When do you leave?” I say after we are finished eating.

“Tomorrow morning,” he answers solemnly. Tomorrow is too soon. It is extremely, incredibly too soon.

“Well,” I sigh, “Then we’d better make today count.”

Alix yelps as I grab his hand and yank him up from his chair. We burst out of my house and I close the door behind us; I will make up the table later, Alix is one million times more important. We run across the street to the path that leads down to the beach, and come to a halt when we reach a log big enough to sit on. We sit down and admire the light shimmering off of the water; I hear Alix’s deep breaths come and go, and ask “Feeling better?” He nods. We sit for a little bit before Alix breaks the silence. “What’s that?” He points to something smooth and white sticking out of the sand. I walk over to it and bend down to pick it up. I jump when I turn around and Alix is right behind me; I almost fall into the sand, but Alix catches me by the hand. “Sorry,” he apologises. When he lifts me up and realizes we’re still holding hands, he quickly lets go, this hurts me a little bit. As the wind blows around us, we gaze at the shell in our hands; the shell is mostly milky white with some specks of pink. It’s gorgeous. It reminds me of the freckles across Alix’s face, the freckles I’ve spent years counting and studying in hopes of one day being able to touch them. Alix looks up at me, “Can I keep it?” he says with a dreamy look in his eyes. I nod, with a smile. How could I ever say no to him? He puts the shell in his pocket and takes my hand again. “Come on,” he said, grinning, “I know where we should go next.”

We stop running when we are in a field almost surrounded by trees and a lake running through it. I sit down on the grass, breathing heavily; I’m not very good at running. Alix waits for me, politely, and when I’m finally breathing normally again, he sprints up to the lake and jumps in! With all his clothes on! I cannot believe how crazy this boy is. When he resurfaces, my mouth is hanging open from shock. “Come on!” he yells.

 I shake my head profusely, “No way.”

 “Please?” he says, and I almost give in, but I hold my ground.

 “I cannot swim, sorry.” How crazy am I for thinking he’ll give up that easily? He makes prayer hands and does his best sad little dog impression. I sigh, “Fine.” I walk over to the water and dip my foot in; it’s cold. I only walk into the water up to my shoulders. Alix is right in front of me; a soft heat settles across my face. “Happy now?,” I murmur. Alix jumps up, a frog in his hands. I’m so startled that I lose my balance and fall into the water. Luckily, I’m just tall enough to bring my head back above water level. I step back so that I am not so deep anymore but still close enough to Alix to punch him in the arm. “You imbecile! I could have drowned if I was a little deeper in!” 

Alix thinks this is funny, “Scared you didn’t I?” he says with a laugh. I pout; nothing about this is funny. “Oh come on, it’s just a frog,” he added. I stay silent and cross my arms. I want him to feel bad for what he did, even if I'm not really angry. Alix frowns, “Fine…I’m sorry Nina.” I smile, as does he, and he knows I forgive him. 

“Race you to that tree!” I shout. I start to run towards a tree about 10 yards away. Well, not run exactly, I have to make it out of the water first which is slowing me down tremendously. As I struggle in the water, Alix catches up with me. Before he can pass me, I finally make it out of the water, and sprint towards the tree. I spin around when I get to the tree first and Alix cannot help but laugh. We both fall to the ground, giggling like children, and roll around in the grass, drying ourselves. I stop when I see another frog in the grass so I do not roll over it. It hops away, grateful I did not crush it, and I smile. I fall back next to Alix and we lay next to each other in the grass for a while before he turns to face me. “I really am sorry,” he says, “You know, for uh- scaring you. I just wanted to make you laugh.” Butterflies rise in my stomach when he says this. He’s so sweet for wanting to make me smile, and I have to admit, it was a little bit funny. “And uhm,” he says, nervously, “If you fell, I would catch you. I wouldn’t let you drown.”

 “Yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers. I pore over the sparkle in his jade eyes and cannot help my eyes travelling down his face to his lips, and for a second, one short miniscule second, it looks like he’s inching closer to me. We snap back to reality after a frog croaks, and chuckle as he helps me up. As I dust off my dress, I hear a faint rumbling noise. I soon realize it’s my stomach. Me and Alix look at each other at the same time, I guess he’s hungry too. “Ice cream?” we ask in synchronization. We laugh. Good thing I know just the place.

It’s evening when we make it to the ice cream parlor in town. Nobody eats ice cream this late, except Alix and I. We like coming here at night because no one is here. The little bell above the door rings as we walk in. The man behind the counter looks as if he’s been expecting us; he probably was because we’re here so often. “Haven’t seen you two in a while,” he spoke in a deep voice, “What’ll it be this time?” Alix and I always order different things; we want to try a bunch of different combinations to find out which ones we like best. “Pistachio please,” he says, “with strawberry slices and caramel syrup.” 

“And I’ll have a scoop of strawberry with chocolate chips and caramel syrup,” I ask.

 The man behind the counter nods and starts scooping out our ice cream. Alix and I both love caramel, so it seems fitting that our last day together before he must leave for the war will end with one of our favorite things. The man behind the counter and I exchange ice cream and a 5 dollar bill. When Alix and I walk back outside with our ice cream, it’s dark, but because of the streetlamps we can still see. I count down from three and we take a bite at the same time. We both make a sour face and hand each other our ice cream cones. When I try Alix’s I feel as if I’m lying in a field of flowers on a cool, but sunny spring morning. It’s the best thing to ever grace my tongue. “This is the one,” I chimed. 

Alix nods, “It’s delicious”. 

“I guess I must have great taste then,” I add with a smirk. He giggles and nods again. He likes the ice cream too much to argue with me. We finish eating and walk along the sidewalk in town. We talk while we walk back home, but as we get closer and closer, Alix becomes gloomier. When we make it back to our neighborhood, and eventually back to Alix’s house, we stop on his front lawn. I look into his disheartened eyes and feel myself about to tear up. I turn away because I do not want him to see me cry but he takes my hands and pulls me back. He looks at me for a second and when he leans in, I think he’s about to kiss me. Instead, he hugs me, tighter than he ever has before. I feel my shoulder get wet from his eyes. “I’m scared,” he whispers. 

“Me too,” I reply. My vision starts to get blurry and soon I am crying as well. We hug for what feels like an hour before Alix finally pulls away.

 “I-I uh,” he stutters, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course you will.” I say with certainty, and I turn away from him to start walking home. I look back, but he does not, so I walk home in silence with the exception of my sobs. Tomorrow, Alix will be gone. My Alix will be gone, and there is nothing I can do.

I wake up in the morning to soft rain and the sound of my mother scolding me. I’m only half awake while she complains about how I left the dishes on the table yesterday. She’s in the middle of telling me something about no man wanting to marry me if I cannot do simple chores when I finally remember Alix. I quickly apologize and hug her before running down the stairs in hope of me being able to wash the dishes fast enough to catch Alix’s train. I fell asleep in my clothes from yesterday so I do not need to change, and as soon as I dry my hands, I pull on my shoes and bolt out of my front door; if I have any hope of meeting Alix at the train station, I’ll need to run faster than I ever have before. The rain wets my face as I run, but I do not slow down. I pass houses, shops, and trees, and the beach, and eventually, as the rain really starts to come down, I make it to the station. I know I’ll probably catch a cold, but it does not matter. Only one thing matters right now. I stop in the middle of the crowd and scan for Alix, he has to be here somewhere. I couldn’t have missed him. He wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Suddenly, I hear a faint voice calling my name. As soon as I spin around to see who it is, I am encompassed in a giant hug by someone with a backpack, and bright red hair I could recognise from a mile away. “Alix!” I exclaim as I hold him tightly.

 “I didn’t think you were coming,” he muttered.

 “How could I not?” I answer, “I promised, didn’t I?” Alix laughs and I smile, but then I hear a train whistle.

 “All new recruits, on board now!” a large man in a camouflage uniform shout. Alix and I look at each other. Thunder booms in the distance. I pull back from the hug and peer at the mournful look in Alix’s eyes. We know we must say goodbye, but I do not want to. I don’t ever want to say goodbye; because saying goodbye is giving up. Saying goodbye is letting go of everything that has been, and everything that ever will be. Saying goodbye is abandoning the only person I've ever loved. I don’t want to forget him, and I don’t want him to forget me either. Maybe, just maybe, if I beg him, if I plead with my whole heart, If I tell him I love him, he’ll stay with me; but I know how selfish that is, and as much as I want to have him with me, I just cannot bear the thought of forcing him to stay here. It wouldn’t be right. Alix gazes at me expectantly, like he’s waiting for me to ask him to stay, but I cannot do it. The train whistles again. “Will you write to me?” I ask.

 “I promise I will,” he responds. I pull him in for one last hug, before finally letting go. Alix turns around and runs towards the door of the train, and I turn in the opposite direction to walk back home. I feel cold and empty. I’m tempted to glance back at him, but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll never leave the train station. So, I do not look back. My Alix is gone now, and there is nothing I can do.

Over the next two years Alix writes to me. He writes about his bunkmates, and his sergeant, and how he’s feeling. He also writes to me about their plans to approach the enemy, and although I never understand, I still enjoy hearing from him. I write to Alix about my parents, my books, and my sewing lessons, and almost everything. Everything except one thing, because I’m afraid that if I tell him, the letters will stop coming. Every Friday morning, after eating breakfast, I walk outside to open our mailbox; and every Friday, there’s a pink envelope waiting for me. In one of my letters, I asked him why he chooses pink, and he responded telling me that he chooses pink because he knows it’s my favorite color. He tells me that the other young men in his camp make fun of him for it, but he doesn’t care. I think he’s very brave for that, and I feel honored; I tell him this. So, I think maybe this isn’t so bad after all. If all goes well, Alix will return as a hero, and we will be together again. “Just a few more years” I tell myself, “And then he’ll come back.” 

One day, I go outside to find that there’s no letter for me. I think it is strange, but I dismiss it. What’s one letter? Alix most likely has not had the time. He mentioned one day that he would be on the battlefield soon, so it makes sense I might not get any letters for a while. I am still worried though. The Alix I’ve known my whole life would never hurt a fly, how is he to survive this war? I know he thinks that he is ready but I have my doubts. However, I trust him, and I have faith in him. He has had training after all. Soon one week without letters turns into two. Then two weeks become four. Soon, I cannot even remember the last time I received a letter from Alix. I’m sitting at home, bored out of my mind, and It’s around the ninth week without letters when I see the mailman outside. I am so excited that I get up and immediately trip over the rug in the living room. Luckily my mother is in town, or else I might have died from embarrassment. I get up and walk to the door in an attempt to calm myself down. When I open the door I wave to the mailman and he walks up to me with a smile and hands me a gray envelope. I am confused because it’s always pink but I thank him anyway and shut the door. I’ve gone so long without speaking to Alix that I do not even bother to sit down. I rip open the bluish-gray envelope while standing up, and pull out a folded piece of parchment. I start to read:

February 17, 1942

My dearest, Nina

I know this letter may come as a surprise to you, seeing as I have not written home in a while. I have been away scouting ahead with a small group. If you are wondering how this was sent if I am not at camp to send it, I have had it hidden under my pillow and requested that it be sent to you while I am gone. How are things? I know I say it a lot, but I miss it back home. I wonder how my father and mother are doing. If you can find the time, could you check on them for me? I also miss the food, what we are fed here is unbelievable. Most of all, I miss you Nina. I think about you every day; you are the first person on my mind when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I think about before I drift off into sleep at night. I do not know when I will be able to return, or if I will survive long enough to return, and I cannot, in good conscience, die without bearing my heart to the one who holds the most space in it. Nina, you, and only you are the object of my utmost desire. I have wished to be with you for almost all of my life and I just cannot keep this secret to myself anymore. I have wished to tell you this for the longest time. However, I have unfortunately never found the courage, until now. I want you to understand, I am not in search of your reciprocation, I merely believe that you deserve to know the nature of my feelings towards you. Whatever the case, I hope I will be able to see you soon. 

Love, 

Alix

I place down the letter on the table carefully. I am so in shock that I stand hunched over the table for five minutes; and then I pick the letter up and read it again, and again, and again. I read that letter until I have memorized every word on the page, and I smile. I smile so hard that my cheeks start to hurt; and I start to cry. I think I am imagining it but it's right there in that letter. It’s true, Alix loves me, the way I love him. I’ve spent my life wishing for this and it’s finally true. This is the single best day of my entire life. The day Alix comes back will be the second. I cannot wait to meet him by the train and hold him in my arms, and kiss him all over because he is mine and only mine. I wipe my tears and pick up the letter and the envelope. I want to preserve this for as long as possible. This envelope holds the source of my happiness. As I reopen the envelope, another piece of parchment falls out. Now I am even more puzzled. Maybe he wrote another one before, but wasn’t able to send it. In any case, I’m overjoyed to finally hear from him. The letter says:

February 21, 1942

To Whom It May Concern,

We regret to inform you that Alix Walsh has fallen on the battlefield. It is most unfortunate that this has happened, and we will be sending funeral compensation to his family. We cannot imagine a fraction of the pain you are feeling, and we are terribly sorry for your loss. Private Walsh was an honorary soldier, and we offer the utmost condolences. This notice is being sent along with a personal letter Walsh has written, due to a request he had made before leaving camp. Once again, we are extremely sorry this has happened, he will be missed. 

Deepest condolences,

U.S. Army General Woodson

This can’t be. It just can’t; but it’s right there in the letter. I was so silly to think anything good could come out of him leaving. I throw down the letter. But I can’t un-read it. I feel tears start to stream down my face. I pick up the letter again and rip it into tiny pieces. I push the ripped up parchment onto the floor, angrily, and I stomp on it. I kick them all over the place, and scream and howl like a baby. My mother would never accept this; she would say this isn’t how a lady acts, but I don’t care. I scream louder as my face becomes as wet as it was in the rain two years ago, the last day I saw Alix. I fall to the floor on my hands and knees. I knew I never should have let him go. My tears puddle on the floor and snot runs down my nose. I wipe it all away but it quickly returns. I yell and sob so loud that I lose my voice. It isn’t fair. How could this happen? If only I had told him how I felt before he left. Then maybe he would have stayed. He could have hidden with me, or faked an injury or something, anything; but it’s too late now. I cry and cry and cry and cry some more; and when I’m done, I wipe my face. Then I take one look at the tiny ripped pieces of paper on the floor, and I cry again, because my life is over. Alix is gone. Alix with the fluffy red hair, and the speckled stars on his face. Beautiful Alix, who I have loved and will love forever, and ever. Alix Walsh, who loved me back. My Alix is gone, forever this time; and he is never coming back.