Free A Girl by Any Other Name by Mk Schiller Page A

talking to her. Luckily, I was in a position
    to do that.
    “Today, we are going to talk about the unsent letter, which is your next assignment. Just like the
    term implies, it is a letter you write to someone which you have no intention of sending. You will all
    be writing unsent letters to someone. They can be sonnets or a simple letter. The idea behind the
    assignment is a chance to showcase some emotional writing, as exhibited in the works we have been
    reading. We won’t read them out loud, so they will be completely anonymous except to Jessica and
    me.”
    Roy Adkins’ hand shot up. I waved it away. “Mr Adkins, there is no need to point out that this
    assignment is not in the syllabus. This is a place of higher learning and, as your instructor, I have the
    right to add additional assignments.” A few of the guys groaned, but I ignored them. “Do not look at
    this as additional work, but rather an extra opportunity to impress me. I hope some of you will, as it is
    a rare experience for me. Now, it won’t take much time. It only needs to be a paragraph or two in
    fact. I just want a clear indication of your writing skills through an informal outlet.”
    A girl in the front row raised her hand. I nodded toward her. “Can it be to anybody we want?”
    “Yes, anyone.” I paused for a moment, trying to coax the next words to come out evenly. “Dead
    or alive. It’s your choice. I have an example of an unsent letter, which I wrote when I was eighteen.
    It’s to give you a perspective on the assignment.” I took the folded paper out of my pocket,
    questioning why the hell I’d thought this was a good idea in the first place. “I wrote this to someone I
    cared about very much and in some ways, writing it brought me some peace.”
    I cleared my throat and stared at the shaky words mocking me on the paper, flavored with
    yellowing tinges of time.
    “Dear Sylvie, I keep forgetting that you’re not with me anymore. I keep going to the lake, looking
    for your pretty face, but you’re not there anymore. I keep walking in the woods, staring at the fallen
    leaves, wishing for your sweet embrace, but you’re not there anymore. I tap on your bedroom
    window, hoping you’ll greet me, but you’re not there anymore. The only place I find you now is in my
    heart and troubled soul. There you live as if you’d never left. You will be there forevermore.”
    A sob escaped in the first row. Melanie Adams had a tissue out. Shit.
    “That was so poignant,” she said. Some of the other girls looked teary-eyed too.
    “Thank you,” I replied, a bit surprised by the emotional reaction I was getting from the females.
    I’d only read the first paragraph, but decided that was enough.
    “You loved her,” Melanie Adams said.
    I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to cry. I had never cried for Sylvie. Somehow, it felt like
    if I did, I would accept her death, and I never wanted to do that. “Your letter can be a poem like mine
    or in letter form. It can be anything you want as long as it’s spoken from the heart. Also, don’t forget
    we have an exam next class and it’s worth a quarter of your grade.”
    She filed out fast with her head down as soon as class was over, but I yelled out her name.
    “Miss Becker, can I please have a moment of your time?”
    She halted in her tracks and turned to me. She stood there like a frozen statue as the other
    students fled past her.
    “Do I know you?” I asked her.
    “I don’t think so,” she replied.
    I walked over to her. She winced, staring at my feet. The limp was very slight and very few
    people noticed it, but Sophie Becker did. “Are you sure? You look like a girl I used to know.”
    She smiled politely, but shook her head, “I get that a lot. I have one of those faces.”
    “I highly doubt that,” I muttered, letting my eyes graze over her lovely body. I was in trouble. I
    had to stop this madness.
    “Professor…err… Cal, can I speak to you?” Melanie Adams