Dear God,

I don't know why I keep writing these letters. Perhaps because they keep disappearing from the postbox. I don't understand the logistics of Heaven's postal system, but I gave up hope of an answer long ago. Now it is habit, same as tending a garden that grows no matter how much or how little attention it is given. I digress.

The garden; how appropriate a setting for a lost soul. That is how I think of myself. I do not understand my presence here. Mother, despite her deep love for me, feared for my immortal spirit due to my 'unnatural affections'. She warned I would taste hellfire for my love, that I would be eternally alone. She was half right. Though as more time passes, I wonder if my garden is truly a beautiful Hell.

I believed if you, in your great mercy, deigned my soul worthy of heaven, I would reunite with my Mother and sisters. I might even see my dear Judith. I imagined us walking hand in hand in this very garden, free to love one another at last. Instead I have only the blooms for company.

Mr. Ash visits on occasion. He is a strange fellow, I never mistook him for an angel, they seem more cultured. Very intelligent man though. He once said if Heaven had edges, my garden would be on the fringe. He told me when the sky flashed, the angels fought one another. I couldn't believe such a thing. He has not come by in some time.

It does not matter, aside from Ash no one comes here, and neither did their war.

I don't know why you would allow such a thing. Perhaps for the same reason a soul like mine is here.

Heaven...is this truly heaven, my lord? Why am I so alone?

-Abigail Thursley

Hello,

I thought I saw someone moving in the house, but no one answered the door. I keep ending up here. Maybe, next time you can tell me why?

-Charlie

Dear God,

Have you sent me an angel? Her hair glows in the sun like copper fire. It has been so long since I beheld such beauty, I could do little but stare at her through the kitchen window. I hid when she knocked! She left a note tucked in my door. Charlie seems an unusual name for an angel. I wonder what it's short for? What does she mean by ending up here?

-Abigail Thursley

Dear Angel,

My apologies for not answering the door. Your presence startled me; I have few visitors in the garden. How can a humble soul like me help a glorious being such as yourself?

-Abigail Thursley

Dear Abigail,

Angel? Glorious being? I'm flattered, really flattered, but I'm just trying to find a way out of here. There are people who need me, and I've been circling through Christmas mornings and beach sunsets for days. No matter which direction I go, I keep ending up here. Not that here is bad. Your garden is lovely, I mean Prof. Sprout's greenhouse has got nothing on you. I'm babbling aren't I? I didn't think you could babble on paper but here I am. Um, maybe next time, you could come out to meet me? I can't believe I wrote 'um'.

I'm going to stop now.

-Charlie

Dear God,

Despite my best intentions, I couldn't open the front door. I pressed myself against it, listening to her sweet voice murmur aloud on the other side. How could such a lovely creature not be an angel? I don't know what a 'Prof. Sprout' is, but her manner of dress and speaking remind me of Ash. Perhaps they come from the same time period. Please, I pray to you to lend me the strength to hear her 'babble' in person, to walk with her through the garden. I wish to see her framed in lilacs, a memory to keep forever, even if I can't tell her how she has made my heart flutter again.

-Abigail Thursley

Dear Abigail,

I was hoping to put a face to such a pretty name this time but I guess-

Dear God,

Such sweet torture this day has been. My angel was stunned when I opened the door. We stared at each other for several moments before she offered an alluring smile and greeting. My glimpses of her through the curtains did little to prepare me for the full impact of Charlene Bradbury. My heart skipped a beat in my breast, something it has not done since my darling Judith, a lifetime ago. I spent hours before her arrival, putting on all the layers of a proper young lady. I have not worn so many since I woke up in the garden. I fear I have forgotten how to lace a corset. Despite the layers of cloth, I feel naked in her presence and she is the one immodestly dressed!

Somehow I dislodged my tongue from my throat. I conversed with her! Her voice is so lovely. That shy grin keeps creeping onto her face, as if she enjoys my company. At first she asked questions about how to 'escape heaven', as if that were possible, and why she keeps appearing here. I knew the answers to neither, and steered the conversation to more pleasant topics. She calls herself a 'certified nerd girl' and spoke at length about Dragons, Dungeons, a War in the Stars, the Hunters who are like her brothers, and a wondrously fantastic place called Oz. Her life sounds like it was full of excitement and adventure.

When she asks me of mine, I manage to speak of my mother and sisters. How can I tell my angel of a lifetime of shame, scandal, and abandonment? How can I speak of my father's scorn, and the rejection of the one I loved with all my young heart? A rejection that broke me?

-Abigail Thursley

Dear God,

Perhaps I am in Hell after all.

I know I stopped writing you these letters for a while. Charlie has been a frequent visitor. The last few visits, she asked no questions about escape. We conversed about everything and anything. If there is something I do not understand, she explains it. She tells such wonderful stories. They are always full of such splendor. Last night we lay out under the stars, with lilac petals gently raining down on us as she told me the story of a magical boy who overcame a great evil. It was perfectly romantic, but my angel is distracted.

A subtle melancholy has settled on her features. There is a hint of sadness that chases the joy in her voice. In the silence of the story's end, I slipped my hand into hers. She did not pull away; instead rested her head on my shoulder.

I wish to help her, but I fear I may lose her. Of course, how could I have such a lovely being to begin with. How could she possibly care for me as I have come to care for her?

-Abigail Thursley

Dear Charlie,

I cannot join you out in the garden today. There is someone who might be able to help you. Seek out Ash. No one knows the ins and outs of Heaven like he does. If anyone can help you reunite with your boys, he can.

-Eternally yours,

Abby

Dear Abby,

You could come with me. Why won't you at least answer the door? What's with the extra letter that says "Do not open until you are free"? Free from what? You better open this damn door when I come back.

-Charlie

Dear God,

She would have taken me with her? I am a coward through and through. Could I find her in the vastness of Heaven before it's too late?

-A

Dearest Charlie,

If you are reading this, I hope you are free from the confines of Heaven. I could not bring myself to tell you my feelings in person. How do I begin?

Once upon a time, a life and death ago, I fell in love with a beautiful girl. Judith was the younger sister of my fiancé, a marriage arranged for the business convenience of my father. She always showed me such kindness and affection. In my innocence and misplaced desire, I misconstrued the love of a future sister in law for romantic interest. In my mind, I dreamt we could find acceptance and happiness together. I dreamt of living in a quaint cottage with my love, surrounded by a glorious garden.

My mother warned me it was unnatural. She was the only confidant I had to my secret affections. She begged me to keep it buried, to accept a half life as a dissatisfied wife to my father's young business apprentice, forced to view my love from afar. I could not do it.

In my rashness, I broke off my engagement and confessed to Judith. There was no happy ending. My emotions were met with disgust and rejection. She told me she wished to never see my face again.

When word reached my father of my actions, he had me committed to an asylum. There I faded, my heart broken, my soul shattered, until I woke up here. The garden and cottage are just how I imagined them, but Judith is no longer the face I picture waking up to.

How could I tell such a vibrant, beautiful creature the feelings I have for her? One who has lived a life of such great purpose, how could I intrude on your noble quest to save your friends? I am not worthy of you, my angel. Perchance your affections mirror mine, I could not face the possibility of such rejection again. My life has made me a coward in death. Know I send my love with you. I shall hold you in my heart until the stars dim above me.

-Eternally Yours

Abby

Abby-

Open the door! Please.

-Charlie

Abby-

Where have you gone? Why is the cottage empty? Some of the flowers are wilting. Abby?

Abby-

Come back to me.

-Charlie

Dearest Abigail,

I don't know where you have gone, but maybe, just maybe, this letter will find you. Your father was an ass. Judith was a bigger ass.

I found Ash. We talked a lot. Maybe... maybe it's better if I stay here, in Heaven that is. I lived my life, and it was full of adventure and amazing things. Since I got here, I was so frantic to get back and help my boys, I couldn't accept the fact that life was over; not until I met you. I died protecting them, I went out with a bang, and I should be able to enjoy myself now. My fight is over. Instead I've been trekking all over kingdom come looking for a way back home.

Sitting here, in your garden, is the closest to home I've felt in a long time. Except it's missing you. Please come back to me.

-Love

Celeste 'Charlie' Middleton

Dear God,

I stumbled, disheveled and worn, onto the steps of my cottage. I thought my angel lost, until she opened my door. To my great and wonderful shock, she welcomed me home with her lips pressed to mine. My veins fizz with light. She told me she is 'totally falling for me'. She showed me her letter. It brought tears to my eyes. Celeste is most definitely a name fit for my angel. She asked to stay with me, in the cottage, to tend my garden with me. She says it feels like home.

I think I have finally found Heaven.

Thank you for the reply.

-Abigail Thursley