Letters from the Inside by John Marsden Read Free Book Online Page B

life, but it’s harder now. It seems so insignificant compared to the kind of life you must have. And it’s so long since I wrote you a ‘proper’ letter, I can’t remember what I told you. I think I was still with George then. That does seem a long time ago. Anyway, he dropped me a while back, no special reason, we’re still good mates, blah blah blah.
    So, what can I write that’s going to interest you? I don’t know any more. I’ve got the same problem as you — I don’t know what to say either.
    I hope you write again but.
    Mandy

    Aug 28
    Dear Mandy,
    Don’t you understand? The reason I put the ad in? I wanted to know what a real life was like. I wanted to know what normal people do. That’s why I liked your letters. That’s what I want you to write about. I wanted you to write about your family and school and all that shit. I wanted you to be normal, the world’s most normal person. That’s why I hated hearing about your brother, because when you started talking about him, and the fights and everything, you were sounding like me or anyone else here. And I didn’t want that. Twenty-four hours a day is enough.
    So that’s all you have to write about. It’s easy for you.
    And I don’t show your letters to anyone, although I don’t blame you for wondering. And I don’t laugh at them. In my twelve months (nearly) yours (and the other ones from the ad) are the only letters I’ve had.
    You asked a while back about my Nanna essay. Well, seeing you asked, I’ll tell you: it got an A+ and the teacher said she was going to enter it in a competition. See, I can do some things. And not everything I told you was bullshit.
    Have you told Cheryl and them about me? About being in Garrett I mean?
    Tracey

    August 31
    Dear Tracey,
    Sheez, instead of not knowing what to say, this time I don’t know where to start.
    Congratulations about your essay. That’s great. I’m not surprised though, ’cos you do write well. Am I allowed to see it?
    But why do you keep saying you don’t know what to write about? Write about yourself. Write about Garrett. You think I’m not burning up to know more about you? Just what is true in what you told me before? Like I said, I think I can tell what’s fake and what isn’t, but in some parts it’s not easy. What’s true about your family for instance?
    As for my telling people, well, I told Cheryl that you didn’t go to Prescott High, and I couldn’t get you to answer my letters. That’s when she said you might be some psycho. But I haven’t told her you’re in Garrett. I was too freaked-out by it all. She keeps asking me, but I tell her I haven’t heard. I’ll have to say something eventually but at the moment I don’t seem to want to, I don’t know why.
    I haven’t told anyone else. I’m still hanging around with Cheryl, but not so much with Rebecca or Maria. I’m good mates with a girl called Naomi Barker, plus a new girl called Mai Huynh, from Vietnam. As you may have guessed, this is a bit of a multi-cultural school — 28 different languages or something, including heaps of Vietnamese, but Mai’s the only Vietnamese I’ve got to know well. She’s sweet, but she can be a bit of a suck.
    I suppose my family is sort of normal. I’d never thought of us that way. Except for Steve, but every family has to have one creep. There’s no zoo without a gorilla.
    Am I allowed to ask what you did to get put in Garrett?
    You know, a lot of things are making sense to me now. Why you wouldn’t send me a photo — guess you don’t have any. Why you didn’t ring me up, or send me your phone number. Are you allowed phone calls? Why you have a post-office box. Maybe even why you don’t believe in God.
    How come they don’t censor your letters?
    I can’t believe the way my innocent letter to you, back in February I think it was, has developed into this. Oh well, maybe it was meant to be. Anyway, it’d be good to get a long letter back this time.
    Love,
      Mandy

    Sep