Disclaimer: I own nothing...


Dear Olive,

I am at my own home now, and I am glad to be here. I also know what Tate decided to do, and I am very grateful to him for doing so. Before I left Godbee's house, I kept on wondering when Tate would come, and what he decided to do. I even had a horrible dream. I cannot describe it, for it is much too creepy. I think that it meant I did not want to leave. Godbee told me that I was brave, but still I think that I am not as brave as you were, Olive. I will never be as brave as you, no matter how much I try. Even with Godbee's comforting words, I still did not want to leave. I hope that this wasn't my last summer with Godbee. It's surprising how much I resented leaving, but now, I do not mind so much.

I went to the bathroom a lethal amount of times just to delay my family's departure in order to wait for Tate. I was relieved when he arrived. He was carrying a bag, with a note along with it. Can you guess what was in the bag? Jimmy's film was in the bag. Jimmy would have been extremely furious at Tate. I have to find a way to properly thank Tate for doing that for me. I also liked his note. He even said that he was the one that really liked me. No wonder he was always around, trying to strike up a conversation.

When I arrived home, I was surprised to find that your jar was unscathed. It held the ocean, and it was in perfect condition. It held your ocean. Olive's Ocean. It was Godbee who unintentionally gave me the idea of filling a jar with the ocean. She was the one who wrote the story about the girl who missed the ocean, and filled a jar with seawater. I also wondered what I should do to the film. However, there was something else that I had to do, and that something was to tell my father that I want to be a writer. He took it surprisingly well, and was quite sincere. He had officially "passed the torch."

I went to your old house as well. 4525 Nelson Street. I never knew that you had lived so close to me. I wanted to give Olive's Ocean to your mother, but she was not there. The landlord told me that your mother moved to either Oregon or Washington. Did she leave right after she gave me the page from you journal? I wish she hadn't. I could have sealed some type of connection with you by giving your ocean to your mother, but I was too late. I'm sorry that I did not help you fulfill your dreams, but I did use the seawater to write your name on the step of your house. I will never stop thinking about you, and how you have helped me. If I met you today, I would be your friend. I believe your mother started our friendship, the day she gave me the page from your journal. We both had the same secret, wanting to be writers, and we both had near-death experiences. Thank you, Olive. Thank you.

Love,

Martha Boyle


Author's Note: All or any reviews are greatly appreciated, as always...

I hope you enjoyed the story. I actually wrote this over a year ago for a homework assignment, so it should not have had too many typos.

-Cordelia Lawrence (Delia)

I might be adding some edited stories to the "Cordelia Fitzgerald" account sometime in the near or far future...your best bet would be the very far future...