Love, Delilah

Sophia Smith feels lost in the world. Ordinary. Common. A copy. Every week she writes a letter to an imaginary person she made up, Delilah. Delilah is everything she's ever wanted to be. When she letters get stolen, she panics and looks everywhere to find them. Then, two days later she receives letters from someone claiming to be her Delilah answering every single letter. Her life immediately changes as she searches for Delilah, as well as herself.


1. Ordinary

I, Sophia Smith am completely and utterly normal. Ok, that was a tad bit overdramatic, I'll admit, but you need to understand me to know what I mean. 

In the second grade, we did a project on our names. As a fun little activity to get the project started, we looked up how common our names were. Some people, like Mistie Lovetta, were searching for a long time to find their names. I wasn't. I opened the site and the number one most popular name was printed in big fat letters, SOPHIA. I shifted my eyes to the most common last names, and SMITH sat there in the number one spot. I laughed it off, kind of proud that I finished first. But it got to me. When I got home, I ran to my parents crying, and explained what happened. 

"Oh Soph..." My Mother said, laughing. "You are so completely extraordinary! I NEVER wanted you to feel like you're not when we named you!" 

"We just loved the name Sophia!" My Father said. It was easy for them to not care about their names, my Dad's name was Felix, and my Mom's name was Catalina. I accepted their comfort, but as soon as they finished patting my hair and laughing over what a huge deal I had made, I pulled away and looked at both of them. 

"Name ONE THING about me that isn't completely ordinary." I demanded, staring them straight in the eye. You wouldn't know if it hasn't happened to you, but a 7 year old giving you the death stare is practically terrifying. Before my parents could even open their mouths to attempt an idea, my older sister, Prudence came home and entered in her usual loud extra way of throwing the door open so that it hits the wall. 

"I'M HOMEEEE!!" She screeched. My parents used that as an excuse to leave me standing there and ran over to ask her how her day was. 

That night, I sat in my bedroom thinking. Was I really completely ordinary? I didn't look very special, I had straight brown hair that went up to my shoulders, and had average brown eyes. I didn't do exceptional in school, but I wasn't struggling. 

I was average. Normal. 

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