shagun

“December 25, 10:35 p.m.

Dear America,

It’s nearly bedtime, and I’m trying to relax, but I can’t. All I can think about is you. I’m terrified you’re going to get hurt. I know someone would tell me if you weren’t all right, and that has led to its own kind of paranoia. If anyone comes up to me to deliver a message, my heart stops for a moment, fearing the worst: You are gone. You’re not coming back.

I wish you were here. I wish I could just see you.

You are never getting these letters. It’s too humiliating.

I want you home. I keep thinking of your smile and worrying that I’ll never see it again.

I hope you come back to me, America.

Merry Christmas.

Maxon”
― Kiera Cass, The One