The Chain Letter

Who still sends written letters in the mail? Grandmothers and people in prison, that’s who. It had been my first thought as I passed by the open mailbox. My birthday steadily approaching.

With the school day now over I had trudged home in a heatwave that hasn't occurred since the very year I was born. Every pore of my body was drowning in sweat. It was so humid I just wanted to get into my air conditioned house.

I pushed open the gate and listened as it creeped shut behind me. Displayed in the open mailbox was a red envelope shaped like a card, its colour was that of a multi faceted ruby glistening in the hot sun. It reminded me of Christmas, oh how I wish! I would trade allergies and burnt grass for snow any day.

As I took out the envelope and other mail from the box, I looked at the front of the red envelope and on it was my name. It had been handwritten most perfectly, was this an invitation? Turning it over the flap was sealed with gold wax and had three distinct markings. I think they were hallmarks, not completely sure I just wanted to get inside and out of the heat.

I wanted to open this new treasure with my name on it and so I rushed to unlock the door and ran inside. Dropping my backpack to the floor and kicking off my sneakers. It took extra effort as my feet were sticky with sweat.

I dropped the other mail and began opening the envelope, expecting an invitation or map to some treasure but what it contained was much more sinister.

Inside the envelope was a Polaroid and in black sharpie marker the words “I AM WATCHING”. I felt my stomach drop and my chest tighten. In the picture I was in my bedroom. Asleep.