July 18 2006: Arrabella

“When will I ever see you again, Arrabella?” Will asked me as we sat on the beach, me watching the sea and he watching me.
The sun was setting in the distance. The sea was calm for the time being, but I saw the storm clouds rolling on the horizon.
“I don’t know. But I hope it’s soon.” I replied, taking his hand and squeezing it hard. I finally looked at him. There was so much I didn’t know about him. There was so much he didn’t know about me.
His eyes, blue as the sea in front of me, pierced through me, probed me. Will leaned forward, as if he was going to kiss me. I didn’t move. I wanted it to happen. He stopped so close to me that his breath tickled my cheeks and played through my hair.
“Can I… kiss you, Arrabella? He asked quietly. I swallowed hard.
“Y-yes.” I swallowed again. He leaned forward and our lips touched.

July 18 2009: Will

The waves thrashed against the rocks and the spray whipped me in the face. The back of my hand came up to my face and wiped the salt water off.
“Will!” my mother bellowed from our summer house at The Coast. It was the middle of July and the storms had arrived.
“William! Get in here!” she cried again. I ignored her once more. This scene was all too familiar. It brought back memories of Arrabella and me at sunset, kissing as the stars appeared above us. But that was three years ago, when I was 14. I haven’t seen her since.
“Arrabella.” Her name left my lips and the sound was even louder than the roaring of the sea.
Finally, the rain started to pelt me painfully, but I didn’t move.
My mom did not call me again, but ten minutes later, my older brother, Matt came running out to where I was sitting on our pier. He had a thick envelope in his hand. It was getting soaked as the rain streamed down from the skies.
“Hey.” I said in a low voice. Matt came and crouched by me and stared at me sympathetically.
“Hey. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just… reminiscing.” I sighed.
“Here.” He thrust the envelope under my nose. I read the return address.
“Mr. and Mrs. Smalls,” I muttered. My heart sank further than any other submarine ever would. Mr. and Mrs. Smalls. Arrabella’s parents.
I grabbed the envelope and stood up eventually. Droplets of rain and sea spray leaped off me as I made my way to the porch in front of my house. I shivered violently to discard the water drenching me.

For a long time, I stared at the envelope, hesitating to open the mystery that I held. I let out a deep breath and told myself “just get on with it! It’s just addressed to you from her parents. Your true love! Do it! Just… do it!”
Finally, I slowly opened the envelope. There were nine pieces of paper in it. I took out the first one and read it carefully.

May 18, 2007: Arrabella

“Think, Arrabella,” I told myself. “You have to write to him.” I picked up my favorite pen and wrote the date in the corner. And then, I started my first letter:

May 18, 2007
Dear Will,
Hi, it’s me, Arrabella Smalls. You wouldn’t remember me, but I am the girl you met last year at The Coast. I just wrote to you to see how you were doing. Well, how are you doing? Things aren’t going so well for me. I found out recently that I have Leukemia and I have only 12 months to live. They can’t do anything anymore.
I wanted to get in touch with you to tell you goodbye. I want to write to you every month until I die. Well if that’s okay. Well, that’s the end of my first letter. I hope you enjoyed it!

Goodbye Will
Arrabella S.