Jennifer talks too much.
The house is full of her voice, the minute she steps in and slams the door behind her. She stops and looks at herself in the hallway mirror before going straight for the kitchen to make one of her health smoothies.
She’s a popular girl at school. Always in a hurry to get somewhere, to cheer practice or go somewhere with identical friends to clubs and parties that never end.
She’s already got acceptance letters for college, even though you usually dont get them until spring. Dad ”pulled some strings” with friends at harvard. She has put these on display in her room, like a tiny museum of a bright and boring future.
But there is one letter which she hasn’t opened yet, still untouched on the table by the front door. It has no adress on the plain white envelope, slightly smudged –
A lot of guys want to date Jennifer, but few of them actually take the time to send her letters. ”They send me dick picks on snap all the time” she’s told me with a shrug.
Even fewer still have opted for stalking. Only one is doing that currently.
The same guy that keeps leaving my sister letters in the mailbox that she doesnt open to read.