Reila

Tears streamed down my face as I put the last letter back into its little box along with the others. I wiped at the tears with my handkerchief while thinking about what each letter said. Those letters were from a young man in England written to my dear little sister, Reila. 
         I remember always walking into the den to see my sister lounging on the sofa reading notes and smiling after each sentence. At the time, I never knew why. I always assumed that it was some silly gossip chain letter.
         Those letters were actually correspondences between Reila and the young man named Adam. I suppose that they were pen-pals. Adam wrote to her about his travels to big cities like Paris, Rome, and Milan. In every letter he promised her that one day, he would take her with him. I am sure that Reila might have been sad at that proposal. Of course, she wanted to travel the world, but she was also very weak. She had an unknown sickness that unfortunately wasn’t curable.
         During the last days of my sister’s short life, she wasn’t able to write anymore letters. Her fragile hands couldn’t move any longer.  The thought of lying helplessly in her bed caused more tears to in my eyes.
         I wiped the tears away as I found another letter underneath the box. It was unopened, and on the front there was the name “Reila” written in a beautiful calligraphy. I carefully opened the envelope, unfolded the paper, and read:
         “Dear Reila,
                   I haven’t received a reply from you in quite a while. How are you doing? I wanted to give tell you that I am planning a trip to America. Hopefully, I can finally meet you in person. In the meanwhile, you can use the fountain pen that I bought for you. I had it handmade just for you. I hope that you’ll like it. Please take care. And I hope that’ll hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Adam H.
         After reading the letter, I quickly pulled the fountain pen out of the envelope. It was gorgeous.  It was made out of a smooth stone, and the tip was gold. I was astounded by the whole situation.  That young man thinks that my sister is still living, and he’s coming to visit soon. I have to do something. I thought as I swiftly went to my room, and sat at my chestnut writing desk.
I dipped the fountain pen into some ink and began to write.