Suicide Love Letters


Theo thumped his fingers on the  table while staring at the earth-styled wall clock pinned on the wall of the counter's area. Five of twelve midnight. He has finished his coffee about fifteen minutes ago and contemplating on whether or not start searching for another letter.

With the Café being temporarily closed for renovation, Theo learned to thank God for the quiet and comfotable time given to him every night. It's already frustrating enough that it's summer and his friends were in different cities, it didn't helped much that he's stuck with his annoying eldest sister. Night is becoming his favorite sanctuary and the letter is becoming his saving grace out of boredom.

He stretched his arms, reached for his laptop then clicked on Autumsden—the official website of Autumnsfield Town.

Tobby, Missing Dog

He typed.

A portrait sized copy of Toby's flyers popped. An adjusted 5x5 photo of him was pasted on top with a couple of information below.

107 9th Way, Autumnsfield, NH
(603) 121-2017

He scanned the notes he made, underlined Toby's name twice then wrote The Roberts' address. He opened another tab to search.

The Happy Shelves

The Happy Shelves
Opens Everyday
7:00 AM - 7:00 PM
3rd A. Dr, Autumnsfield, NH
(603) 082-1989

He started to jot down some of what he thought were useful information then blew out a sharp breath, thinking of another way to find his mysterious writer.

Melan at The Happy Shelves

O Results.

13 Reasons Why

"Jay Asher, tragedy, young adult fiction..." He touched his chin. He knew what Thirteen Reasons Why was all about. He never read the book, but he had to search when Netflix decided to adapt it into a movie series, never for his own knowledge but to attract girls. He knew another letter was tapped in Jay Asher's book and all he has to do is look for Thirteen Reasons Why at section J. Their books had always been arranged alphabetically, all credits to his bookworm sister.

"Well, isn't that a brilliant idea, Theo?" he utters then smirked. Now's not the time for that idea though, he thought as he lazily stood up to walk back at the nook.

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.
— Edgar Allan Poe

Theo instaneously smirked when he read one of the framed quotations on the wall. Mysterious. Cat. Writing. Isn't that a fit description for his secret admirer? He chuckled with his own thought.

The reading nook consumed 50 of the Café's 210 square metre space. Located at the Northwest side of the shop. For Theo, entering the nook means giving yourself a chance to get lost into a world that smelled like an old wood and withered autumn leaves. Old books may be a treasure for the book-worshipers, as what Theo named them, but he is never interested with its smell.

Facing the shelf, Theo started scanning. "Jay Asher, Jay Asher, Jay Asher..." he murmurs while his index finger moves to point each book. "Gotcha!"

A gray book with an attractive girl on a swing. If the book mattered to him, he would've appreciated the cover much. He's sure that for E or S or whoever she is, the cover isn't just another ordinary glossy paper.

Instead of flipping the pages, he turned the book up side down. A piece of paper slipped then floated for a couple of seconds, he satisfied himself by catching the paper before it hit the ground. His forehead furrowed, noticing the letter is not inside an envelope. For a second, he thought he didn't got the right book. But there's only one way to be sure.

Slumping on the cold floor, Theo felt the roughness of the books as he rested his back on the shelf. Unfolding the paper, he immediately noticed that the content was shorter than the first ones.


I just realized I wasn't smiling the whole day, and to add up my already frustrated system, I didn't saw you.

He's not sure if it's ever possible but he felt the frustration. She didn't called him crush.

I'm not sure why I was adopted by shitty parents and I'm living in a shitty house with shitty attitude people. I'm writing this letter on the attic. My glow in the dark stars are dimming off, I suddenly realized how lonely it is here.

An unfamiliar glum enveloped him. Something a normal person shouldn't feel towards a letter.

Years ago, the molds and dusts were giving my skin a massive irritation, I had to clean the place from time to time. I once checked the boxes scattered all around. I found old Christmas decors and a lot of unwanted stuff; clothes, accessories, toys and not to mention, my adoption paper. Chris and Flor didn't threw me up here, they don't even know this have been my hiding place, but don't you think it's a bit weird that an unwanted child is seeking refuge in a place full of unwanted things?

He felt heartsick deep within. He's good at comforting girls pretentiously, but something in him was longing to make the lady feel wanted, sincerely.

So, anyway, this is going to be quick, for I know my secrets won't matter much to you.

Doesn't it? He felt a lump on his throat.

The relationship had been going on since three years ago. Flor and Carlo's.

His forehead furrowed. Another name being involved.

Fortress Meadow

#46 in Young adult
#39 in Mystery
#11 in Romantic mystery

Story about: mystery, romance, love letters

Edited: 22.02.2019

Add to Library