Chapter 1

Adylann-

You're a free spirit. You may not realize how you act on impulse but your parents do. This is the only reason why they push you so hard for simple everyday actions. "Tis not

because they are afraid you won't end up like Kate, it's because they simply fear fir you. Don't worry about what they have to say. Only feel what is right and act on it. I know

you will always make the right decisions. Never be afraid. For I will always be around to make sure you are in good spirits and to keep you safe.

-J

I carefully set the note back in the small card-board box. It now has a beat-up sort of look to it with bent edges and dents on the sides from it being slid under the bed and hitting

the wall too often. The note was filled in order according to date along with countless other notes I've received from J. It's not like all the notes had just appeared over night for me

to read and go through, but they had been gathering up over time. Most of the small rectangular papers' once rough surfaces were now soft and worn from me wandering my slim

bony fingers on them. It was as if I was hoping it'd give me a familiar sensation that would cause me to find out who "J" might be. That was the only thing these short letters had

in common. After all this time it would seem positively sinful for one of these notes to have the same message written on it twice. They were all different in body but same in

signature.

When I was younger, I had stumbled across the notes in a forest in my backyard. I would always go there to clear my mind. But one day, when I was throwing rocks at the trees,

a folded piece of paper folded in half had appeared underneath the rock that I had picked up in my hand. I didn't care who wrote it to me. I only cared that there was somebody

out there in the world who actually cared for me and wanted to make me feel better. After finding my first note, whenever I'd run back to the forest, I'd go to that particular spot

and keep my eye open for a small, rough piece of paper folded in half with my name written on it. Never once was I disappointed by not having a small, little note waiting for me to

open up and read. Soon enough, I officially declared that spot my escape place. Since then, I have referred to that spot as my "Hatch". As the years passed, I slowly transformed

the Hatch into a small garden. It was filled with all sorts of wild flowers and bushes. I added a bird-bath, a bench, and even hung two ropes from trees with a board attached to

form a swing. It seemed perfect to me.

But as I have grown older, my curiosity about the Hatch and who wrote me those notes has grown as well. I can't stop thinking about whom this person may be, how they ever

know what's going on in my life, or how to always successfully make me feel better. It only makes me wonder if this person follows me around and hides around in bushes or if in

fact it is even a person. Sometimes, I've been crazy enough to actually wonder if it's a guardian angel.

I can never think past the words "guardian angel" because to me, they represent a roadblock. The name of this roadblock is called "Reality". Look out for it. It gets in the way of

life and creative thinking. It limits your imagination and you to pursue your dreams in a happy, simple way. In my case, it reminds me how there are no such things as guardian

angels'; they are just a myth just as the Greek Gods are. Reality proves that guardian angels are just as real as Cinderella.

A quick, loud knock spoiled my train of thought. I jumped and quickly put the lid on my box of small notes. Then I slid it across the floor, underneath my bed. It slid with enough

force to allow me to hear it bang against the wall. I stood up and grabbed my white, silk robe to drape over myself. Wearing only short shorts with a cami probably wasn't the

smartest choice of pajamas in midwinter. I couldn't have one of my parents catch me dressed like so in this season. I ran to my closet and put on my slippers as well. Now I

looked far more appropriate for this time of year. The knock came again. Whoever was outside my door wasn't very patient.

"Yes?" I finally answered.

"Can I come in," said a sharp, annoyed voice that I have easily learned to be my sister, Kate's voice.

"Uh, sure."

Kate came in my room and looked me up and down expectedly. Was she waiting for something? Or did she see how inappropriately I was dressed for this cold winter season. I

shot her back a confused look. After about a minute of different expressions passed back and forth, she spoke to me.

"Why aren't you ready?" she snapped.

"Ready for what?" I asked.

"For our morning brunch with the Morgan's! Didn't Mom and Dad tell you last night?"

"Um, no?" I had never known the right thing to say in these situations, because with Kate, honesty was never a good enough explanation.

"What? Are you serious? You know what, never mind. Get ready. We're supposed to be leaving in about twenty minutes."

"How am I supposed to get ready in twenty minutes? I haven't even showered yet!" I complained. It is bad enough I have to tag along with Kate and my parents to eat brunch

with her fiancé and his family, but now I have to be presentable within only twenty minutes. This is absolutely ridiculous!

"Not my problem," Kate said as she walked out of my room, closing the door.

Perfect. I wanted to just sit down on my pale yellow comforter and mope, but I knew I didn't have time because once again, I'm in reality, and reality never knows when to give

me a break.