Regina woke up again at—she glanced at her clock—two thirty. Maybe I’ll write Lucy, she thought, referring to her friend back where she used to live, California. She, gathering effort, turned towards her nightstand, and got out her pen and stationary.
She smoothed out the sheet of paper, and, glancing towards the other end of the room saw that Cara was sleeping. She uncapped her pen, and chewed on it in thought.
Dear Lucy,
Hi! What’s up?
Regina stared at her paper, and pulled out a clean sheet.
Dear Howie, Kevin, AJ, Nick and Brian,
Hello, my name is Regina. I just want to thank you for what your music has done for me. I was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer three years ago, and have not been feeling very well. Lately, the only thing that has cheered me up is listening to your music. I sit, and I just get lost in the music. I am absorbed, taken in completely, until I hear nothing but your voices, drifting over my head. I, unfortunately, wasn’t able to get tickets to your concert, but I’m not writing to complain. I understand you guys are only able to do so much, and I think what you guys did was great, lowering ticket prices. Your work with charities is so cool, and that you guys are willing to help the less fortunate. Well, if you guys ever get to read this, I want to thank you again. Thank you for what you have done for me, even though you have never met me. It’s amazing how you are able to touch so many lives, without ever knowing them. Thank you for putting your time into your work, thank you for spending the extra effort to keep the fans happy, thank you for being born, and for being wonderful people. (Gee, wonder if I’m thankful?) I love your music, and I always will.
Yours truly,
Regina Willstead, 12
She put the letter, the finished one, into an envelope, and addressed it with an address she knew by heart, but had never used. The sealed the envelope, lay it next to her bed, and forgot about it.
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