Letter Nine

Dear Butterfly,

I miss you, and I hate that. I hate that everytime you look at me, you look through me. I hate that you're happy. But I shouldn't be.

the Mouse

Letter Eight

Dear Butterfly,

You would not believe how well Hare and I get on.

the Mouse

Letter Seven

After a weekend of consideration, the Mouse has decided to contine with her letters. She says that having somewhere to put them, even if no one will ever read them is beneficial, as she can look on them later. So, without further ado, a note for this letter:

In a wave of pecularity, the Mouse has chosen not to write a letter to the Social Butterfly this week, but instead write a letter to the Fish. She would like me to inform you that this may never happen again.

Dearest Fish,

Why do you insist on being my friend? I don't understand it and neither does anyone else. Your best friend has turned on me, and yet you don't see that as reason to leave me. It's kind of magi cal, to me.

Your continuous friendship means so much to me, and yet I can't fathom why you do it. Is is just for Butterfly's sake to see if I say anything that you might send on to her? If it is, send this: I feel sorry for her.

I'm so glad that I still have you, even though if you had to, you would choose her.

Love,
the Mouse

Letter Six

Dear Butterfly,

Shockingly, it seems, I'm in a better mood than I have been in for the past five letters. I think I have won this war instead of you. You hardly have the courage to look me in the eye, let alone acknowledge my existence. You take different routes to class, just to avoid me. You go sit somewhere else, just so you won't have to hear me talk. You feel guilt.

And this proves that you cared. And that you have a heart, albeit not a particularly warm one, or one of love. But you do. Once you told me that you don't trust anyone. Why do you keep yourself so guarded? From what I can tell, you have nothing to guard yourself from. Silly girl, don't use words you obviously don't understand.

Sincerely,

The Mouse

Letter Five

Butterfly,

Am I invisible?

Mouse

Letter Four

Dear Butterfly,

As I sit here, watching you with your friends, the pain that it causes me is like a small, ferocious animal gnawing away at my insides. Specifically, the spot right in my ribcage. It's painful and it makes me want to scream. What did I do? What gives you the right to treat me like this? What did I ever do to you?

I know I made my mistakes, but you, you are too proud to admit that you made yours. Swallow your arrogant pride, swallow your selfish righteousness and come talk to me.

Maybe that's what I want, maybe it isn't. I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

 

Mouse.

Letter Three

The Mouse asked me to type one more letter for her today:

Dearest Butterfly,

Does it hurt you everytime you see the Fish and I talking as we walk to your hangout in the morning? Your best friend, still mine.

I hope it does. I hope it doesn't.
Maybe you'll have an inkling about how I felt, when I saw you with the Hare.

Mouse