7 Letter from a friend

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He sprinted through the alleys of downtown, which were in darkness with very little light. Loud footsteps could be heard coming from behind, and he tried to get away. But instead, he hurled on the ground, his lower back pressing on the ground. 

The footsteps continued to be heard approaching him from the shadows, and he shouted, "What do you want from me!" 

A finger emerged to peek out of the shadows that pointed at him.

Sylvester was startled awake, drenched in sweat, and his heart pounding. Ever since he sensed a presence tailing him, he had been plagued by unsettling nightmares. 

He wanted to reach out to the parish house once more, but what would he say? That he was going paranoid, waiting for the thief to restock his kitchen? Because he hadn't noticed another break in. Even he didn't know if he should laugh or pray after the break in his house. 

When a bell rang at the front door, it abruptly broke Sylvester's thoughts. He made his way to the main door before opening it. There stood the mailman with a smile. 

"Is it Mr. Sylvester Crowley?" 

"Yes?" Sylvester replied, and the mailman gave him a letter. 

"Please sign this here," said the mailman, handing him a piece of paper on a board along with a pen. After Sylvester had finished signing, the man politely remarked, "Enjoy your day, Sir. Because life is short."

Sylvester stared at the mailman who descended the stairs and left the building, while leaving an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Returning inside the house, he locked the door with the two new locks on the existing lock. As he walked towards the table, he read the address and the sender's name. It came from his college buddy, Ryan Murray, from Dublin. 

My friend Sylvester,

I trust this letter reaches you in good health. I am delighted to extend an invitation to you for my upcoming wedding on December 15th. It would be a pleasure if you could join us on this happy day. I know it has been hard on you, especially after what happened in the past, but I am looking forward to seeing you there. I'll reserve a spot for you. I miss you, mate. We all do.

Underneath it was Ryan's signature, and accompanying the letter was the wedding invitation card. 

Dublin. It was where Sylvester had grown up and spent his first year of college before his mother decided to flourish herself in countries other than Ireland. There were a lot of good memories, but then there was one that left him in fear and dread. 

The first thing that came to his mind at the mention of Dublin was Samantha O'Brien. His first love and relationship. And they were so happy, until that horrible morning that he stumbled on… A chill ran down his spine at the very memory of it. 

Samantha O'Brien was probably the most beautiful girl in the college vicinity. With her brown locks of hair and a sweet smile, which crinkled the corners of her eyes. She was a kind person, who talked to everyone. In the beginning, he found himself signing up for the drama group, which she was also a part of. And eventually, they started to go out before getting into a relationship. 

"I cannot wait to spend my life with you, Vester," Samantha used to say, and it made Sylvester very happy. "I will come with you then. And study together the art of the stage!"

"That sounds perfect!" Sylvester stated his opinion with his whole heart. "We will have a family of our own, Sam!"

The day after the last day of the college year, he went home to inform his mother that his girlfriend would be joining them. But his mother was furious, "That O'Brien girl?! Vester, I told you she is not suitable for you. Not only is she from a different background, but she does not give me the right impression. What do you even see in her?" she asked, shaking her head in distaste. 

"I love her, Mother, and that is all that matters," Sylvester kept his stance, knowing he was upsetting his mother, but she couldn't decide who he could and couldn't love. He went on to say, "If you don't approve of us, then perhaps I will stay in Dublin."

"You have no idea about these young women, Vester! They will only use you for your wealth and status," his mother argued, following him in the corridor. "You are making a mistake, Vester, which you will regret."

"I appreciate your opinion, but this is my decision. I'll be going to Maeve's house later," Sylvester stated as he entered his room and closed the door behind him.

"Maeve? The one who is the mayor's daughter? I caught her eyeing you last time and I know that look," his mother continued to speak from the other side of the door. 

That evening, Maeve, one of the wealthy college friends arranged a home party because they had finished their examinations and her parents weren't in town. The house was nothing less than a manor. Sylvester spent time with Samantha, their fingers interlaced as they sat on the couch before the fireplace. 

"I'm sorry you fought with your mother," Samantha apologised.

"I wish she saw you as I did." Sylvester sighed. "She would then realise what a wonderful person you are." After a few minutes, he concluded, "I'm staying here. In Dublin."

"And your mother?" Samantha inquired, worried. 

"She will need to comprehend that I am no longer a small boy but have grown up. She will come to terms with it eventually," Sylvester said, caressing her head. With his sister, who was busy in Wales, he knew his mother missed her, and part of him felt sorry that he was abandoning her, and his lover noticed it.

"You should go check if your mother needs any help with packing," Samantha said, and Sylvester sighed. 

"I will pick you up in the morning," he said, receiving a nod and a kiss. 

The ship was departing in the afternoon. He would tell his mother his decision that he wasn't going to travel with her. After sharing another kiss with Samantha, he stepped out of the massive manor with his friend Ryan, who was going to drop him home, when he noticed Maeve approaching the entrance. 

"Leaving already?" Maeve inquired, staring at him. 

"Yeah. I'll be back tomorrow morning," Sylvester replied. "Thanks for the party." Climbing in the carriage with Ryan, he left. 

The next morning, Sylvester finished talking to his mother, who looked tired. He then went to see Samantha at Maeve's manor. Arriving there, he caught sight of some of them, who were passed out on the couch or corners of the manor. He continued to look around, when he finally entered the room, where he caught Samantha's brown hair.

"Sam, it is time to wake up. My mother has agreed to—" when he turned Samantha who was sleeping on her side, it felt like someone had knocked the air out of him. The duvet and the lining of the bed where she lay were soaked in blood. 

Her hand held a scarecrow doll, which was bloody.

Fear gripped his mind after he walked down the memory that he sometimes wished to forget. But was it right to forget the girl he had loved? He wished he didn't leave Samantha there. If only he had stayed and left in the morning, he could have prevented her death. He could have protected her. 

Sylvester was unable to hold any romantic relationship with any women after Samantha, and he had little desire to do so. The murderer was never caught and it only made him angry. Then at the same time, a shiver of panic ran down his spine. Recently he had started to hear and read about the scarecrow's appearance in Riddleford. 

"Mr. Crowley?" 

Sylvester had zoned out in his thoughts at his workplace, and he turned his gaze on the man who held a notepad in his hand. The man said, "We've got the stage ready. Can you take a look at it?" 

"Yes," Sylvester replied, trying to get his mind back to work, as tonight was the opening night of the show. "What about the chandeliers that were ordered two weeks ago? Have they come yet?" 

The man nodded, and replied, "They arrived this morning and have been unboxed. The ladder was in use on the stage until now, but we will attend to it immediately."

When nighttime approached, the board at the Frontier Hall Opera House entrance was brightly lit. Men and women from high society had begun to enter and take seats in the lavish gallery. The walls were red, with drapes hanging at the sides and chandeliers hung from the ceiling, which now glowed with light. The air smelled of money and refinement. There were several notable persons present, including the Opera house's owner, his niece, Lady Poppy Williams, the mayor, and the commissioner who had come with his wife. Lady Delilah, Sylvester's mother, had also made an appearance, attracting a lot of attention from people who couldn't stop flocking around her. 

The show began, captivating the crowd with the performers on the stage, the music filling the vast auditorium and reverberating against the walls. 

When the curtains closed, the audience applauded, bringing wide beams to those who had worked so hard to make the show a success. 

"Bravo! What a wonderful script and the music," Lady Delilah praised her son once he came to her. "I enjoyed every bit of it, Vester. I am so proud of you."

"I didn't do much, Mother. It was an effort by everyone," Sylvester said, while receiving a kiss on his cheek from his mother. 

"You are being modest." Lady Delilah laughed softly. 

"I think someone should be out of the two of us," Sylvester chuckled. When a card fell from his coat, his mother caught sight of it and picked it up. 

"What is this? A wedding card?" his mother asked. 

"Ryan is getting married and invited me," Sylvester informed her, and he noticed how his mother's expression turned slightly grim. 

"Dublin is too far, and you are busy. I am sure he would understand," Lady Delilah said with a smile. 

There were instances in the past, when Sylvester was tinged with doubts. If his mother had played any role in Samantha's death. But his mother could barely kill an ant, and murder was too extreme for her. He said to her, "I shall see you tomorrow, Mother."

"Of course. I understand. I will see you tomorrow," Lady Delilah smiled, and she was met by the commissioner and his wife. 

While Sylvester spoke to the other patrons, he caught sight of someone familiar in the crowd. Startled, he said, "Maeve? What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Vester," the woman smiled, her lips tinted with a faint pink as she smiled. "I moved to London after graduation and have been working under Madame Sylvie. I heard you were working here and thought to drop by."

"I am glad you came," Sylvester replied politely. 

"Me too. It is a beautiful night. Did you receive Ryan's invitation?" Maeve asked him, and he nodded. "I was thinking if you decide to go, we could attend it together."

"I will let you know about it." He was happy to see her, but at the same time, it reminded him of the bad memory. After speaking some more words, Lady Poppy approached him. 

"Mr. Crowley. I wanted to congratulate you on the excellent opening. All of it was fantastic, and I am sure tomorrow the newspapers will rave about it."

"I am very glad to hear that, Lady Poppy," Sylvester replied with a bow. 

And while everyone was busy congratulating and talking to each other, Ricardo remarked, "Oo lala, who is that?" His eyes fell on a blonde woman, her hair pinned up. The woman was talking to the great Lady Delilah, and he overhead her introducing herself to the older woman. 

"I am Jane Reinhart. I am a big fan of yours, Lady Delilah," her voice was mature, yet one could pick the giddiness from meeting the actress. 

Lady Delilah stared at the young woman, who gave a nod and smile, noticing the black dress that was worn by the younger woman. She responded, "Thank you for your appreciation, Miss Reinhart."

The commissioner's wife, who was still standing there, said, "Miss Reinhart doesn't frequent these places, Lady Delilah. She has been busy catching criminals."

"I am a detective," Jane Reinhart proudly informed her, but Lady Delilah only smiled. 

"She's the hermosa I saw that night. The beauty," Ricardo murmured, while continuing to watch the woman. "Looks like the great Lady Delilah doesn't approve of her. She would approve of boring Poppy."

"People prefer people of their own taste and class," Agnes replied to him. "It is a known fact."

"Well, I think Jane Reinhart is a delicious woman. Oh, she is leaving!" Ricardo exclaimed in disappointment. 

"Ricky, don't even think about it. We are supposed to be here until the end of work," Agnes whispered to him quickly. It was because she knew his track of mind. 

"Calmate, Agnes. You need to relax. No one will even notice me slip out," Ricardo chuckled, fixing the coat he was wearing. As he made his way towards the exit, he caught sight of one of the workers. Before Ricardo would be questioned, he stated, "I am feeling ill and will be going home." Without waiting to hear a response, he continued to walk, and finally caught sight of the lady in the black dress.

He ran his fingers through his black hair. With a grin, he said, "Time to put on the charm."

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