Chapter Text
"Hey mom
uhm… I dunno how to really write these things I never did when writing these things to you so im just gonna let you know how I feel and stuff
I feel sad, really sad :( Me and dad had to move because of work and now I cant see my friends at school. he says that this would be a “fresh start” now im moving from elementary to middle school. sure a lot of the kids were mean but I had friends!!!
I miss them… maybe I could make new friends but would they even like the same stuff I do? what if they laugh at me for what I like? its scary… I wish you were here too, dad's busy a lot of the time cuz he has to get money and back at our old place I could at least visit friends but now i cant :(
at least I can still talk to them on roblox n stuff… Speaking of which i have been messing around in the studio and made a place! I might show it to sam later today and see i can get him to join roblox with me. gmod is fun n all but im not really intrested n rp… half-life is the better valve game anyway. ( he might disagree on that but its fine )
anyway uhm I dont have anything else to say uh, thank you for reading this where ever you are
love, your son
Noah"
The young child picks up the written letter, racking his brain if there's anything else to add. This is sort of a small ritual he and his dad came up with when he was younger. He remembers on mothers day in first grade, he brought home a small plastic bottle covered in messy yellow paper mache squares with yellow carnations inside. It was a school project all the kids had done for their mom's as a gift. He didn't really understand why he had to make this. Even after being told the reason why he was pasting on sticky squares onto a beaten up tiny plastic bottle. Later that day when he got home. he asked his dad why he didn't have a mom like all the other kids.
Noah's dad didn't have the heart to tell his 6 year old son that she died while giving birth to him. Things went wrong during the process, she didn't survive, but luckily, Noah did. So instead of telling the truth, his dad told him that she was just very far away and couldn't be here. The child asked why she couldn't be with them and… Noah remembered the solemn look that stretched across on his father's face, replying that she just couldn't.
Noah felt bad then, and still feels bad for asking now. It's an irrational feeling, he couldn't have known then. But… He remembers asking his Dad if he could send his gift to his mom. His dad took a moment to think before replying. Agreeing to his request, along with sending a letter to her. So she could know how her son is doing.
Noah doesn't remember the words he sent to his mom then, his father helped a lot with his messy kid handwriting. The day after, he recalls his father putting a letter in an envelope and taking the flowers with him while driving Noah to school that day, he asked what he was doing with the items. He remembers that it was to send it to his mom.
Noah can assume now that it was to put it on her grave. You can't really send something to a dead person you know. But, later on, he eventually learned the truth about what happened to his mom. He's glad that his father didn't blame him for her death. He seems happy enough that one of them survived. After learning he decided to start keeping these letters in a box under his bed, so that way his dad doesn't have to waste gas to go to his dead wife's grave every friday… Lord knows the money they need to save.
But, money troubles isn't for kids to worry about. It's far from the child's mind either way. For now, Noah scoots back from his desk, and opens a drawer on it, grabbing an empty envelope, folding the note neatly as much as he can, before stuffing it inside. He does not seal these letters shut, mainly out of fear of getting a paper cut on his tongue, but also what if he wants to read this later?
Either way. He writes a “For you Mom, from Noah” on the front, jumping down from his chair and getting onto his hands and knees to fish the box out from under his bed. It's one of those bigger shoe boxes, He has a few more already full, he changes the box with each year, this one being 2010. Opening the lid he places the note onto the stack. Before shutting it and pushing it back under the wooden frame.
Getting up and dusting off his hands, he returns to his desk, turning the old beaten up computer on with a hum. He's surprised that this computer is still working and can run games, speaking of which, he should get started on giving that tour for Sam. It would be nice to play a game with all of his friends. Hovering over the icon, he opens up roblox, and starts setting up for recording.