Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are property of Stephanie Meyer...the original plot is mine (Clarissa Frey)
A/N: I KNOW! I'm meant to be writing the last chapter of Edward in Primrose Paths, but I've been struck at with inspiration ever since watching Avatar (go figure). I'll get to Primrose now!
The chapters in this are intended to be short, based on the letters exchanged only.
"Letters From Another World"
By Clarissa Frey
"Now, I'll come around to each of you and you can pick a pen pal from this hat of mine"
Mr. Berty said to the class. I rolled my eyes. Everyone was excited, to write to some, prefect stranger for an assignment, I personally didn't see the point at all. Mr. Berty, our senior English teacher had spoken of the 'pen pal project' in passing and most of the class had been interested, but, never had I thought he would go through with it.
Mr. Berty approached my table, where I sat, with my workbook and other various items from my bag strewn across my desk. I smiled up at him as he proffered the hat with pieces of paper that contained the names and addresses of perfect strangers to me. Sighing inwardly, I plucked a piece of paper from the top.
Mr. Berty smiled at me and moved on. I put the piece of paper down on the desk as if it were a poisonous spider and glared at it. I personally didn't see any point to this assignment- our class was to write letters to a perfect stranger and then, we would be graded on that? It was preposterous. But, it was all taken to new heights, when, today Mr. Berty detailed the fine points of the whole project- we would write to some poor sod for a year, using snail mail only. Some in the class, such as myself, were sceptic, whilst others were excited.
Indeed, just sitting here now, listening, you can hear some of the girls whispering to one another, excited, hoping that they have chosen a guy to write too-and that guy is of course, sexy and attractive...
"Now, that you have picked your pen pals, go ahead and write to them. Use today's class to write your first letters and I'll mail them after school finishes today"
Mr. Berty beamed and I looked down at my chosen person, who's identity sat folded up and typed on a piece of paper. Picking up the piece of paper, I vaguely wondered what Mr. Berty had to do to get this poor person to agree to let some student in his class write to him. Glancing at the name and then address…TEXAS!? I was writing to some guy- some Jasper Whitlock who lived in Texas? This was definitely a laugh, the letters, sent by snail-mail would take days to get to the other side of the country.
Oh boy, this was going to be a failure, I just knew it. Around me, I could hear rustling of paper and pens as people began to write. Dejectedly, I took an envelope that Mr. Berty had placed on our desks along with a stamp and addressed it to Jasper Whitlock.
Then, I began to write.
To a complete and utter stranger,
I'm not too sure what my teacher, Mr. Berty has said to you, but I'm one of his English students who just so happened to pull your name and address out of his satin hat. I apologise for the inconvenience. I'll be writing for a year.
Right now, Mr. Berty is writing things on the board, with suggestions as to what we should write in these first letters- as you without a doubt know, first impressions count. So, I guess I'll indulge in some little details. My name is Isabella Swan, but you can call me Bella, I don't like being called Isabella. I'm in my last year of schooling, thankfully I might add and…oh yeah, I'm from Washington State.
So, don't expect my letters (if you're foolish enough to reply) to be all that frequent.
I also apologize in advance, simply because you're one of the poor souls who have to participate in this stupid project in the first place.
I read over my letter, checking grammar and spelling, satisfied, I folded it and sealed it inside the envelope. Luckily, just as the bell rang and, shoving my belongings, in my bag, I swept out of the room, dropping my completed letter in the waiting tray on Mr. Berty's desk.
Yep, I knew that this was just a nightmare waiting to happen…
I jumped attention as my commanding officer approached me. It was in the early evening and the men were receiving their letters from home. Letters from their loved ones. I had grown accustomed to not receiving any from my family, nor from my friends; I come to terms with that reality. So, it was with that thought that I thought that my commanding officer wished to speak with me for another purpose and I followed behind him when he gestured for me to fall into step behind him.
"Soldier, this letter is addressed to you"
I was immediately rounded upon as soon as we entered the tent that served purpose as the location for strategizing against our enemy- the North. Blinking, I examined the small rectangle that was being held in front of me- the writing was unfamiliar to me, slowly, I took the envelope and examined it, turning it around, I masked my surprise when I saw where it had come from- one of the Free states.
I looked at my commanding officer and, then, in turn my superiors.
"I don't know this writing, nor the person who has written the letter"
I told them truthfully. My commanding officer regarded me with a serious look, as did the other men. I held the letter back out.
"You are more than welcome to read this letter. I have no qualms with you doing so with all respect sirs"
My commanding officer smiled at me and gestured at the envelope, I looked closer-so they had already examined it and, for it was soon obvious to me, they had found no threat.
"Perhaps, you will be able to make head or tail of it, Whitlock. You may go"
Nodding, I bowed and left immediately, feeling slightly shaken. Returning to where my bed roll was waiting for me, I dressed down and began to read the letter that had cast suspicion and confusion on my superiors.
Finding great amusement, in what was written; I couldn't help but pick up my pen and begin to scribble a reply:
Dear Miss Isabella Swan,
I am thanking you for your letter, I must say, that it both confused and alarmed quite the number of people when it arrived. That said, I appreciate this sudden correspondence and I am sorry to inform you that I do not know this 'Mr. Berty' that you speak of.
I am more than happy to swap correspondence with you for the following year, assuming that I will survive to the year. But, considering these times, if anyone of us can survive to the end of this year, it will be a feat in itself.