Stronger (Sequel to Fragile)

Alex's life is a dream. Her brother Louis, from One Direction, remembers everything. She even gets to go on tour with the boys! But what happens when her past catches up with her again, but this time, back in America? Will she be able to keep everyone safe? Or will she lose everything, and everyone?


6. Letters From the Past

It was different this time, pulling into the driveway. This wasn't my mom's house anymore. It was mine. My hand shook as I unlocked the door and pushed it open. 

I stood in the doorway, unable to go in. Maybe moving out wasn't such a good idea...

It was too late now. If I went back, I'd never be allowed to leave. I took a deep breath, picked up my suitcase and the boxes, and stepped inside the house, closing the door behind me. 

I expected someone to greet me, call my name; but nobody did. The house was as silent as ever. I took a step forward and listened to the unfamiliar creek of the floorboards, so loud in the silence. I took another step, then another, then another. I finally made it to the stairs, and acended them. I abandoned my suitcase at the top of stairs to have a look around.

All the rooms were just as I remembered them. Mine was on the left, Louis's was strait ahead, and our mom's was to the right. The guest bedroom was between mine and Lou's. I picked up my suitcase and took it into that room. There were too many memories in the other three rooms. 

I unpacked my small suitcase and set the two boxes on the bed. I'd open them later, frist I needed to clean the house. 

It took most of the day and 12 1/2 rags to clean all the dust off of the entire house, and by the time I was finished I was coughing like there was no tomorrow. 

I retired to my room when I saw that it was nearly midnight. I wasn't tired though, so I decided I'd open the other box, the one that had more wear and tare on it. I gently lifted the lid and peered inside. It was filled with hundreds of letters, some looked like they were written years ago, others months. I pulled them all out and laid them on my bed. The letters were bundled into stacks by bits of twine.

I looked at the first letter. It was addressed to me. From my mom. A few days after I left. Tears sprang to my eyes as I shakily broke the seal. I recognized my mother's handwriting instantly, after all these years.

My Dearest Alex, 

Why, darling? The doctors told us you had left. You had taken you clothes and left. Why? Did we not love you enough? Did we do something wrong? Is it because your brother doesn't remember you? It's only temporary, love. He'll remember you, I promise. 

We didn't want to leave you on your own in the hospital, but the nurse said the best way for Louis to remember was to take him home and familiarize him with his life. He needed both of his parents for that. That is the only reason we left you, and it was only for a day. You were in too poor a condition to take with us.

Your father had to take me out of the hospital when I heard the news that you were gone, I was a mess. My precious baby girl ran away. Please, come back baby. Please... Your father and I started a search a couple of days later, but its been nearly a week. They say it's likely you'd gotten lost, and someone found you. I wanted to call the police the minute we found out, but there was that 48 hour policy, where they won't start a search until the person has been gone for 2 days. I watched the clock and called the police the very second my 48 hours were up. Sweety, they were the most difficul 48 hours of my life.

Louis has started to remember things, but not you. Not yet. You need to come back. He needs to remember you. I fear you'll always be a blank portion of his memory if you don't return soon. You're father and I have talked about it during your absense. If you never come back, God forbid, we won't tell Louis. There is nothing any of us can do to get you back right now, and there is no need to cause him added pain. I hope you see it my way someday, if you ever read these. Oh how I hope you do. I love you. You know that, right? You're my precious little angel sent from heaven. Please come home.



I gently laid the letter on my bed as I wiped my suddenly wet cheeks. She never meant for me to leave? She thought it was her fault? She sent out a search party?

The search was too late though. I was adopted the day after I got there. They said it was perfect timing. I disagreed.

I sat there, clutching the letter to my chest, sobbing. I just wanted to go back in time and not leave. I had screwed everything up. If I hadn't left, life would have gone back to normal, I would have had my brother. I would have been happy. I wanted my mom. I wanted my mom. I wanted my mom. 

Louis's POV

I dropped Eleanor off at her place around 11, then went home. We'd had a great time, and I was glad I'd gotten to see her after all this time. We had gone to dinner and a movie. I know, a little cliche, but sometimes cliche is good. It was fun, all the same.

I changed into my pajamas and checked my phone (I'd had it turned off during the evening so El and I could have some privacy). I had a few messages from the guys, but nothing from Alex. That was odd. It was her first night in her new house, I thought she would've called or texted or something about the new place, the memories, the dust, anything. But no, nothing. 

I was starting to get a little worried. I grabbed my jacket, keys, and phone, and headed out the door. If she was asleep, fine, I could reassure myself she was alright and go home. If she was up, maybe we could talk and I could help her get settled in. 

It took me about 45 minutes to get there, and by that time it was about 1 AM. I knocked gently on the door, but nobody answered. I slipped my spare key into the lock, then locked it behind me. 

"Alex," I quietly called. "Alex?" She didn't respond. I climbed the stairs and saw that light was coming from the slightly ajar door of the old guest bedroom. "Alex?" I peaked my head through the door. Alex was lying on the bed, curled up in the ball, a load of letters around her. "Alex? What's wrong?"

She didn't respond, just kept crying. I walked over to her and scooped her up in my arms, sitting on the bed. "Alex, love, what's wrong?" She just kept crying into my chest, clutching a letter to her as if her life depended on it.

I moved over to the rocking chair and began rocking her to sleep while I sang to her, "The Only Exception", one of her favorite songs.

I looked at the clock when she finally fell asleep; it read 2:57 AM. I yawned and smiled. I'd never had the chance to do this when we were kids, but I was more than happy to rock her to sleep now. 

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