Date: 31 October 2012, 06:00 GMT +1:00
Subject: Re: Please come back home
It’s been a long time, but you got lucky: the recreation area has just been renovated and got a computer with broadband access. I’m still not a technology-type – you can imagine that at the Barracks is even harder to find free time than it used to be in our house – but I do check my e-mails every now and then. Anyways, I must say your message caught me off guard.
It’s hard, but I try not to think about what happened two winters ago. My behavior did rush our mother’s death and we all know it, no need to say anything. Nevertheless I never considered what I did next as leaving home. I just… took a walk. A long one. You see, I didn’t buy myself a new house and therefore my official address never stopped being Summer Hill 15. In fact, it is the one written on my military enlistment papers.
I just needed then a different roof under which to crash for some time. At first, I stayed at Kyle’s – he himself was in need of a friend since the unexpected passing away of Monica in the middle of our mother’s funeral. But as you well noticed we were no longer teens after that night. Finding a job was imperative. The economies you had tucked into that childish pig-shaped safe of yours wouldn’t last forever. (Yes, it was me who broke it. I’m sorry.)
So I joined the military. As a member of service personnel, I was given a small unit (Note 1) at the Barracks and that’s exactly where I’ve been hiding for the past months.
Yes, I knew about our father. I considered going to the mass celebrated in his honor, but I was on duty that Saturday. The Corporal doesn’t read newspaper and it’s not wise for the Privates to discuss their private life with superior officers. I didn’t know, though, about the estate’s project and it saddens me to hear he didn’t live long enough to see it finished. Our father was a good man.
I’ll be free to come and go as I please within 2 days and I can pay you a visit. Don’t expect more than that. It’s been a while since I was out in the city and I don’t want to rush into anything. I’m even inclined to stay in the Military and follow a career. But for now, I’ll answer your plead: we’ll talk, you’ll tell me only what I need to know about this journal you’ve found and we’ll draw a plan together. Everything will work just fine. I’m convinced that all you need are a few words of encouragement: you was, you are and will ever be the perfect child.
Sent from Sunset Valley, SimWorld
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