This happened when I was only in my junior year in Computer Science. It was on our summer classes when Chriselle and I started to get close with each other. She has a lot of friends, but she never had someone she disclosed a secret to or can get along well, except me. She is a darling, someone you’ll find easy to talk to, kind, has a knack for fashion and a madonna in programming.
It all started when we were studying at the school canteen.
“Who do you think wrote this?” she asked and gave me a stationery paper. I laughed, because in this kind of generation, who would use a stationery paper to confess their love, or even a love letter? I think you’re the prettiest in the world, Chriselle. You’re my sunshine. My love. - Mr. Blue
“Well, someone loves you, that’s the fact I see here.” I replied and gave the letter back to her. But in reality, everyone would surely fall in love with her. She’s the perfect woman you can ever have. Chriselle flicked her fingers at me and gave me a sharp look. Uh-oh, the madonna is serious.
“It could be someone from our class, who knows. Besides, it’s a love letter. Come on, appreciate it.” I continued and swayed her look away. She seem to have taken my advice and shrugged the letter off, placing it in one of her notebooks as she continued reading her notes.
One time, she texted me. She said she wants to meet up tonight. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop located at Upper Session Road. She said she wants to tell me something important. I arrived there late due to the traffic caused by the people rallying for some agenda. When I entered the shop, she quickly took notice of me, waved her hand and signed for me to sit there. The shop is my favorite. Live band music, you can see the people walking outside, the serein visible from the shop’s window glass and the clink of the glass and ice in someone’s drink is a vision you can visualize every night. A perfect place for chrysalism.
“So, what’s this thing you want to tell me?” I asked, straight to the point. She looks worried, and she was playing the lemonade drink with her straw.
“Remember the love letter I showed you before?” she asked, her voice weak, worried and terrified.
“Yeah, from Mr Blue?” I confirmed. She nods and looks at me intently.
“At first, I received it from my seat. I thought it stops there, but currently I get tons of love letters from him at my mail box! It’s getting creepy.” she explained. When she saw that I was seemingly not convinced, she opened her bag next to her seat, reached for almost a dozen of letters from Mr. Blue. Most of them were about his admiration for her beauty.
I like your shirt, Chriselle. - Mr. Blue
Awesome skirt! I love your smile when you walk out of your house going to school. - Mr. Blue
I agree, that sounds creepy to me. Is he watching Chriselle going home? Perhaps even when she’s in class. This means that whoever is writing these love letters, he’s someone close. An obsessed fan? A stalker?
“That does not end there…” she continued. I looked at her, puzzled with her remark.
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated to tell me what it was. She blushed but she started to talk. Perhaps something that she can only tell to a girl, but since she trusts me, starts to spill it out.
“Two of my underwears are missing! I did laundry yesterday. When I went to school and returned home, I only have six on the hanger clips.” she whispered, cupping her right hand fingers to her lips, to avoid alerting the other customers in the shop.
“What!? Do you think it’s the same guy?” I answered, surprised.
“Who else would it be? If it was a different person, then he should have done it for a long time already. Why now?”
She has a point. Whoever this Mr. Blue guy is, not only is he a creep, but an underwear thief as well. Oh boy, it reminds me of someone.
“I guess you should report it to the police.” I said, and calmed her.
“No one would believe me. Police officers usually scoff this idea. I tried doing it once and they said probably it fell or I lost it.” she replied, feeling dismayed over the matter as she drinks her lemonade.
Well, Police Officers usually needs physical evidence. Not only is this a non-viable case but the creeper never made anything wrong, YET.
The underwear thief could be a different person, and that widens out the gap of who to arrest, the creep or the thief. I tried everything to calm her, until we decided that if the creeper does something more than stealing her panties, then we’d have to file a report.
I accompanied her home, and went home as well. I remembered I wanted to tell her that I am inviting her to go with me on a book launch of her favorite mystery author, Janrae Mendoza. I dialled her phone quickly and eager to tell her the news. It rang a few times before she answered from the other line.
“Hello, Alden. Good evening. What made you call?” she asked.
“Hi Chriselle, nice bath robe. You finished taking a bath yet?” I asked.
There was a pause before she answered.
“How did you know that I am wearing a bathrobe right now? How did you know I finished taking a bath?”
“Well...that’s because-” I did not finish explaining and dropped the call. I opened the closet where I actually hid myself, as she turns to me, surprised, shocked. I can see her knees trembling.
“That’s because I am Mr. Blue.” I replied as I took out my stun gun. Oh, the book launch? I lied. That is actually next week. Remember when I told you about that someone I remember that steals underwear? I was reminded of myself. Oh wait, I was the one who stole her underwear. Haha.
[FICTION] The Love Letter
November 20, 2017
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