***I had this dream and I couldn't let it go so I decided to write it out... PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!***
Mrs. Cope... poor Mrs. Cope. She tried, I'll give her that. She was my government teacher during my senior year and the butt of many jokes. I'll put it this way, have you ever seen Clueless? Remember Cher's Social Studies teacher that she makes over? Well poor Mrs. Cope puts her to shame. She wore knee high stockings with dresses that came to her thighs everytime and of course one stocking was rolled down to her ankle. Her frozen poodle perm on her extremely short hair gave her a space for her glasses to set when she was lecturing. All in all, I could only say poor Mrs. Cope. She was an awesome teacher, never once abandoning me when I couldn't cram the process of vetoing a bill into my head until I finally understood. Which brings us to that fateful day in September after Mrs. Cope received word that her needed software was up and running in the school library. We all sat a computer awaiting the news she was so giddy over.
"I've been waiting for three years to get this program up and running and it just so happened to fall on this day. Student's this program is an interactive program. It's government based out of the military allowing soldiers to send protected emails to loved ones back home. Now it also creates and stores a profile you create about yourself that a soldier over seas is going to read and will be able to choose from. He or she will begin a pen pal relationship with you over this year through this program. They have been informed you're being graded, which actually is going to be your final exam grade, so you can't get out of it. Each email is read by myself and a person designated in their command so watch what you say. Now you may begin your profiles." she said in her best giddy little school girls voice.
I turned to the computer and sighed. After reading that I had to write a minimum of 500 characters about myself, I wanted to bang my head through the monitor. I could not complete that task in the fifty minutes we had of class. I raised my hand and promptly began begging for the chance to write my "profile" at home then put it in the system the next day. Finally she relented and I pulled a notebook from my shoulder bag. Where in the world should I start?
I'm Isabella. Scratch that... Bella. Just plain Bella. I'm seventeen, well I'll be eighteen in two days. I think this thing is completely ridiculous. Not writing to soldiers of course, but writing about myself. I had to beg my teacher to let me write it out before I could put it in the system. You probably want to know what I do for fun... not really much of anything. See I kind of prefer to fade into the back ground. I don't want to be the center of attention, it makes bad things happen. Like at my last birthday, my dad invited his best friend Billy and his son Jacob over for cake and ice cream. Of course they broke into song as I was trying to cut the cake which scared the sh... crap out of me causing me to nearly slice my index and middle fingers off leading me to spend my seventeenth birthday in the emergency room getting too many stitches to count. I'm also an eternal klutz. I tried walking down the hall at my house pulling a hoodie over my head this morning, right? I ran into the wall so many times I knocked every picture fram down and busted the glass. That's bad right? It gets worse, I was cleaning up and cut my fingers on said glass. High ho ER away! Dr. Warren is my best friend along with his lovely shots of lidocaine for numbing. I do listen to music to calm my nerves after these numerous emergency room trips. Not Lil' Wayne and Kay Perry. Don't get me wrong I'd love to be a "California Girl" but theres something about Bach that soothes me. I see myself in a meadow in the never existant sunlight lieing in the grass. I can smell the flowers and the grass. It's intoxicating. Wow, I actually wrote more than 500 characters. Okay, so I guess I'll hear from someone soon so be safe, keep doing what your doing, and I appreciate your efforts on my part. -Bella
Believe it or not it took me over night to write all of that. So the next day I typed it all into the computer, opted against adding a photo (they didn't need to see what I looked like) and hit send. On my eighteenth birthday I was completely surprised to find my inbox full. Not like a few messages but like full. Maxed out, full. All of them were from females who laughed and agreed and felt the same way I did. I didn't really want to talk to any of them. I kept scrolling down and that's when I saw the only male in the bunch, Pvt. Edward Cullen, F.C. I had no idea what Pvt. or F.C meant but Edward Cullen seemed like an interesting name. I opened the message and it was short to my dismay but nevertheless enthralling.
Your profile was a breath of fresh air in a cloud of never settling dust. It intrigued me rather than made me laugh, though I must say around here you're quite famous. Everyone is hoping you'll write back to them which I'm sure you will. I just wanted to tell you that you should take better care of yourself. All those trips to the emergency room must be killing your family. Save them some worry and think before you do things that may cause injury. You might also find that Debussy is better than Bach.
Pvt. Edward Cullen, F.C.
More so than anything I wanted to tell the pompous jerk that he had to right to tell me what to do so I let into him.
How dare you presume to know me? I take perfect care of myself. My accidents happen through no fault of my own or anyone elses. They just happen. And as for my family, my father laughs at my trips to the hospital. It is none of your business as to what regard I hold my life. And as for Debussy, while Clair De Lune is magnificent, I still prefer Bach.
I knew that Mrs. Cope would be reading what I wrote and it kind of sounded a little Jane Austen but I was angry. What right did he have to tell me to watch out for myself? On the fourteenth, a friday, I checked the program again to find he'd written me back.
I'm sending my most regrettable apologies. I'm sorry I offended you. I had no intention of doing so. I simply read your profile and felt an overwhelming sense of protection. I just... well I wanted you to protect yourself and to be safe. I also fear that now you're stuck with me. I just learned from the person in charge of this program that once you respond to a letter that's been sent to you you are then that persons penpal. I've been told you'll be graded and I wouldn't want to bring your grade down so from here on out I'll keep my opinions and fears of your safety to myself. By the way, I forgot to tell you happy birthday.
Pvt. Edward Cullen, F.C.
I felt bad then... he was really just trying to be sweet then? Oh, I'm just an idiot. I reserved the forehead smacking for when I was at home and began my response.
I'm the one who should be apologizing. I never should have jumped the gun like that. I seem to let my temper fly off the handle and it can be hard to reign it in. Please say you'll forgive me? I'm rather glad I'm stuck writing with you. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with females but I was afraid it would turn into missing boyfriends, shopping or things like that. I'm not the typical girl I guess. Please don't worry about my safety. My dad is the chief of police and it's kind of hard for really, really bad things to happen. I'm just a klutz. Thank you for the birthday wishes. I didn't do anything really special. Just the tradition. My dad and I woke up with the sun and took my cake to my moms grave so she could be there when I blew out my candles. Then after school we watched movies and I made chicken casserole. It was a good day though bittersweet. When is your birthday?
P.S. What does Pvt. and F.C. stand for?
The weekend flew by quickly for me and on Monday morning I snuck into the school library to check the program.
I forgive you since you've forgiven me. I'm getting a little bit of flack for the emails. The ladies here like to joke a bit. I'm sure your boyfriend understands what I'm going through. It's good you have your dad for you. I'm sorry about your mom although I'm glad your birthday was special. If you don't mind me asking how did she pass? My birthday is June 20th and I'll be 22 this year. I signed up for the military as soon as I turned 18. This is my last year before my enlistment is up. I'm thinking I'll use my GI bill to go to college when I get out. My dad wasn't too happy when I enlisted. He wanted me to be a doctor like him and my mom was scared crazy and still is. Its so so bad over here now as it was a few years ago. I can't and won't go into details but we're making progress. It feels good to help people that need it. So you cook?
P.S. Pvt. is Private and F.C. is First Class.
I smiled and began my letter back.
Why are you getting flack for our emails? I don't actually have a boyfriend. I'm not what you would cal attractive. Brown hair that tends to have red in it in the sun, boring brown eyes, skin so white its almost see through doesn't attract the men if you know what I'm saying? What would you study in college? I'm going to be attending Arizona State in the fall. I've got to get out of the rain. I figure the sun will be the best for the skin thing. Yes, I cook. My dad isn't the hands on type in the kitchen so as soon as I could master the art of the stove I learned to cook. For some reason I don't burn myself. My mom actually passed away giving birth to me. It was a fluke thing. I was born and everything was fine but when she got up to shower after having me a blood clot in her leg loosened and travelled to her brain causing an aneuryism killing her instantly. It's okay for me to talk about it. I never knew her but my dad said she loved me more than life itself.
Over the next three months we wrote every day about everyday things. One day Mrs. Cope came to me at my locker.
"Ms. Swan, I have something for you." she said with a smile as she handed me an envelope.
"What's this?" I asked taking it from her.
"It's a letter from Pvt. Cullen. He sent it care of the school." she said smiling widely.
I couldn't help it as the smile grew on my face and I threw my arms around her.