Letters of Description

A Chapter by LunaC

Lavender and Meredith begin to describe where they are and who they are, to one another.

Lavender to Meredith

My name is Lavender Lee Blakely. Well, the birth certificate reads Lavender Lee Hill, but Hill is my father's name, and I haven't used his name as my last since he left when I was ten. And I haven't seen him since. Good riddance ... Anyway, I was born on July 2nd, 2000. Like I think I mentioned I'm 16. I've lived in three different states and gone to seven different high schools. People start to look and act the same after awhile. I'm kinda bored with conformity, but it sucks not having any friends, so I find a way to blend. My mother started moving about after my father left, simply because she said now she could. I think there's something deeper there, but we don't talk about that. We let eachother be messed up without staging an intervention or anything, so we're cool.

Mom and I moved into this really big house because it was like super cheap. Some old lady died and her relatives just wanted rid of it or something. Anyway, it's kinda spooky and some parts are run down, but it's got some cool rooms and stuff. Like in the attic there's this turret room where some one put a skylight and it's super fun to sleep up there. I stack pillows and s**t and watch the stars sometimes until I fall asleep. Lol, I'm such a romantic!

I'm seriously just thinking of s**t to say. I have no idea what to write, this is so weird. I guess we're living in the same house?

I have really dark, like medium length hair, almost black, and I guess I'm kinda pretty. Thank god I grew out of my acne phase! I'm about 5'6" and I've got curves, but I don't care. I mostly dress like a tomboy. All I wear are All Stars, I've got two favorite jeans and I rarely go shopping because that's like, just not me.

I don't really have a talent. I've picked up guitar like five times and phased out of it, otherwise I think it would be awesome to play harmonica, but only freaks play harmonica, so I don't know what to think about that. I guess maybe I could be a closet harmonica player! Lol! ... (that means 'laugh out loud' btw).

Meredith, why don't you describe your house, so I know like we're actually living in the same one.

Meredith to Lavender

Dearest Lavender. We had a servant named Hill. Goodness gracious, I did not think of it until you had mentioned the surname. He was our stableman, that is to say he took care of our horses and kept the carriage in good repair, until father most recently obtained a motorcar at which point we unfortunately had to let him go. Could he be... have been a relation?

I was quite overcome by your mention of the date. It is, of course, what I suspected, but the year 2016, which, judging from your date of birth and age I presume it is, did come as a bit of a shock. It is so long from now. My now, I mean. You must tell me what it is like. You must tell me everything - everything about the future! Do you still have motorcars there? Mother says that it is a phase that will eventually die out, which of course sparked a merry feud between her and my father. They can be so merry when they are not discussing my need for a betrothal.

As far as myself, I am, as I have mentioned, of twenty-three years of age. I have reddish blond hair. Well, far more blond than red I suppose. I have a slight figure, but had scarlet fever as a child, which is likely to have contributed to it. The same fever which took my brother's life. Young Johnny. He was only three years old at the time. Mother and father had three more children, however.

I finished primary school and was then pulled from school to learn how to tend house. Much good that did, I suppose, although I do help mother out considerably when it is the maid's day-off, or when she is ill. Father dislikes hiring out for housekeeping service. He dislikes strangers in the house in general. And our cook, luckily, is never ill.

As for if am I pretty or not. I suppose not. I have never lost my pallid complexion, although my time outdoors is limited. I do get fresh air, but am always careful to stay out of the sun, lest my mother catch me with sunburn, in which case she would tirade about my complexion’s thwarting the procurement of a husband! 'Lol!' I would wish a man to be less concerned over my skin and more interested in my opinions, but such a man I have not met, not that I have met many.

You, however, must meet a great deal of suitors! Your life sounds of the adventurous variety, and I so long to know more of it. To which places have you been? I am terribly sorry to hear of your father's abandonment. Men are such beasts!

However, you wished for a description of my house. It is a lovely pale green. It has a wide staircase that leads down exactly five steps bordered by two thick pillars and a sturdy wood railing with decorative spindles steading it below. The porch that stretches to the right as you exit the front door is lovely, don't you think? Small, but room enough to sit and have a friendly chat with the neighbors on a summer's afternoon. My father often smokes cigars from this porch, and my mother allows it.

The house itself has five rooms on the first floor, not including the pantry, and extensive basement for laundry and canning. The visiting room has three large windows looking out onto Allan's Street. There are three houses visible from this window. The Berry's, who live in a red-brown house with a little window protruding on top, the Kelly's, a wealthy family from Canada who's head is our most recent chief of police. Their house is white, with a large turret running down the three stories, only a small overhanging onto the door landing and no porch to speak of. Two large, concrete lions are placed on their front lawns, for reasons beyond me. And thirdly, the Frasier's; theirs has a porch that stretches evenly on either side of the front door, and covers the breadth of the house, with isn't very wide, but is very lovely. Thus is my view from my bedroom window as well, from which I write this letter. This room is directly above the receiving room below, and can be got to by a wide winding staircase, which reaches to a number of large sleeping apartments connected by a narrow hallway. At the end of this hallway, can be found the maid's room, and across from that the cook's. These are small rooms with just enough space for a trunk and a few of their valuables.

The attic, I am afraid I cannot describe to you, for it is a creaky place filled with bats, I imagine, and crawling things I would much rather avoid. However, I do recall a turret.

Always, Meredith.

Post script - Dear Lavender. Since writing you the above I have decided to send you the most recent picture of myself that was taken just late last year. It should aid in my description. If it pleases you, please send me a picture of yourself as well.

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