Dear Hurley

February 2, 2011
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The purple door opens quietly. The simple white room is cold, chills circle through the air. A computer sits against the far wall surrounded in a tangle of cords. A bright green circle slowly pulses on the computer’s body. My hands are shaking at my side in the doorway. The old house creaks a little, encouraging me to go forward. I listen. Placing one foot in front of the other till I’m standing in front of the computer. Dropping down the screen lights up. A black cursor blinks at the top of a white page. Cautiously my hands reach down to the black keys. Finger tips brush lightly against them. I gingerly push a key down the black cursor lurches forward leaving behind a single “D”. Then it’s an “e”, “a”, “r”, and a space. “Dear” sits in the corner of the page silently waiting for the next word. The clicking of keys leave the name Hurley trailing behind “Dear”. My stomach drops, guts squeeze and knot. My hands hover over the keyboard. “Dear Hurley” still waits patiently while tears stream down. There are solid steps behind me. He unplugs the computer and pulls me off the ground to me feet.

“He understands how you feel. He would hate how you keep blaming yourself,” taking my hand he leads me out of the room into the hall shutting the door behind us. “You can try again tomorrow, but he wouldn’t want this for you. Hurley wouldn’t want this,” his soft voice trails off.

He goes down the stairs to the kitchen leaving me in front of the door. Hurley’s picture on the wall catches my eye. He’s smiling. Even now I can only hope that he’s smiling somewhere. I’ll try again tomorrow. One day I’ll finish my letter to Hurley. One day I’ll finish my letter to my brother. One day I’ll place it next to him with tears in my eyes and a sob in my throat. One day I’ll place it next to him and offer a sorrowful smile while thinking of his boyish bright smile. One day.

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