She pulled open the last draw of the chest with a grunt. She'd have to fix the darn thing, the sides always stuck before giving away to the force.
The blue and white notebook sat there atop a pile of journals from the past. The hesitation was minuscule, and she lifted it out.
She remembered giving it to him on the last day of school.
They'd boasted about long lengths, dared him to write more.
And to her surprise, he actually had.
His pages spilled love and hope and happiness.
He was a terrible writer but his words were honest. There was no elegance but oh- so much heart. She read it once again, from the very beginning.
The letter of sorts spoke of so much, promised a ton and then some.
She smiled a sad smile as she tore the pages out.
If only time could have frozen in that dark room, that warm, dark night.