The very first post-it note I ever got from him was the very last I gave to him.

He was the shiest boy I ever knew. However, he was the sweetest boy, too. His eyes were worn leather, a brown so loving and warm that whenever I was lucky enough to catch his gaze, I melted. His hair was a tangle of playful childhood mischief. The boy had a look about him, like he was going to get into trouble, but he was there to root you out of it, too. But for all his appearances, he was a quiet kid and rarely got into trouble.

His name was Oli. I’ll never forget it.

The First Note….

“Charlotte! Come on!” My mother called to me. I was nose deep in a book, escaping the moving van and the intimidating movers. I set the hardcover book down, running down the steps to help with the last of the boxes. My family, Mom, Dad, and I, had just moved to Sheffield. It was a little place in England. I was intimidated, really. I was eleven years old and had just moved countries. I had no friends. I felt alone.

“Honey, there are some kids on the street! You should go see if they want to play.” My dad encouraged. I shook my head, brown locks of hair shivering in the slight gust that had picked up.

“I’ll help unpack.” I mumbled. My parents gave up quickly when it came to trying to get me to socialize. I was never really one for hanging out with others. I was content with my music, books, and a comfy chair. Nothing could get me to leave the chair.

Within a few hours, I had packed the meager belongings I owned and organized them. The room I would be sleeping in was a baby blue. The furniture was already set up and scattered through the room. I sighed and reached for a small role of tape. It was cold in here.

I hung up the few posters I owned, mostly of my favorite movies, books, or my space stuff. I had one for Lord of the Rings, Skyrim, one of a black hole, and a couple more ‘road maps of the galaxy’. I was proud of them. I loved space and studying astronomy. It was exciting to track the movement of faraway objects, to glance at spectacular giants roaming the universe.

Once I was done unpacking, I decided to explore our backyard. It wasn’t the largest yard, but there was a few houses close by ours. Maybe, there was even a lovely reading corner! I spotted some trees from my window. The high branches were the best places to explore a new novel.

I skipped outside, checking to make sure my parents were okay. After the pause, I rushed out to the backyard. Cool wind kissed my skin, brushing my pale arms with invisible fingers. I closed my eyes, breathing in the sunshine. The green grass swayed and bent to the power of the breeze that slowly picked up. The summer day was gentle on the landscape.

The backyard was wide, but I made my way to the cluster of trees by the northern fence. A house bordered ours, a little eight foot path of open space separating our yards. They needed no wall. The neatly trimmed grass was border enough. Peeking around the base of a tree, my blue eyes scanned the surroundings. Okay, no one was here to bother me.

I took my book from under my arm, quickly sitting down and flipping to the page I had stopped on. The action seemed to be frozen in time, only resuming when I began to read. The ink turned words into a work of art, a mental video to imagine a dynamic duo conquering the evils of this world.

The breeze picked up, blowing my hair in all different directions. Setting down my books, I pulled it up into a ponytail, brushing the strands back. That’s when the chirping started.

“Cheeere! Cheeere!” A bird squealed high above me. I squinted hard against the blazing sun, looking through the branches. A nest was about ten feet above my head. I snuggled into my sweatshirt a little more, huddled against the wind. The nest began to quiver and shake in the wind. The shrill screams of birds residing in the little brown bowl of sticks increased.

Setting down my book, I looked around. My parents wouldn’t be pleased if I climbed a tree and fell, breaking my arm. I shouldn’t do this.

As the wind picked up, I saw the nest shake harder. I couldn’t wait any longer. Stuffing the little seed of peril in my brain, I set the book down and began to climb the slender limbs. A little prickle dragged nails down my neck, as if someone was watching me. I looked around. I couldn’t see anyone from here.

I was a few feet away, trying to shimmy through a dense patch of twigs. The branches were knives that tore at my face and hair, but I pushed on. I finally reached the nest, looking in. A little blue jay chick was huddled against the far edge. I fumbled for a minute, nearly dropping as a strong breeze pushed at my legs. Regaining my balance, I put out one hand, the baby bird shrieking again.

Without warning, the nest was ripped from the branches. I was too slow to catch it.

I watched in horror as the branch his the base of the tree, the little bird being jostled out and landing hard on the ground. Tears like shards of glass threatened to streak my face. I climbed down as fast as I could, not caring that I was making a lot of noise in my descent.

I went to the bird’s side, looking at its limp body. The bird took shaky breath after shaky breath. I scooped it up into my palms, holding it close to my body as the little drops of liquid sadness splattered my cheeks. It’s soft, downy feathers were dirty, a wing twisted at an odd angle. A picture of beauty and innocence was ruined yet again.

The bird let out a little chirp, a soft cry as its head fell onto my fingers. The chest froze. Just like how I left my book, it was like the action had frozen, the characters trapped in eternal stillness until I opened it up and began reading. But for the baby bird, it would never start again.

I held the bird closer as I silently sobbed, bowing my head into my chest. As I sniffled and wiped my eyes clean, I went to a little corner by the fence, by the base of a drooping tree. Using my hands, I clawed at the earth until it made a space to let the bird lay in. I covered it up, putting a rock over the top so I would remember the spot. I picked up my book, going back inside.

I cleaned my hands of the dirt under my nails and set down my book. Going back outside, I picked a few little flowers scattered around the yard. Taking them back to the rock, I set them down on the makeshift grave.

That’s when I saw the orange little post-it note perched on the rock. It had a little stick figure climbing a small tree.

I wish I was as brave as you.

I took it inside, placing it in a box, sliding it under the bed. I couldn’t help but wonder who wrote it.



The Second Note…

It had been two weeks since I moved in when the second note appeared. I sat outside on my front step. A ladybug slowly crawled over my fingers before eventually taking flight. The red dot disappeared from my vision soon after.

A little movement caught my eye. It was a kid, my age, maybe a year older than me. Yeah, a year older. I hope he hadn’t noticed me. I shrunk into the steps even further. The kid went up to his mailbox. The drive to his house was right next to ours. I think he lived in the house behind us.

The kid had brown hair and was tall, lanky really. He checked the mailbox, looking up and seeing me. I ducked before I could make eye contact. I got up, walking inside, hoping he didn’t take too much notice in me. I was fine if we could avoid awkward conversation.

As soon as I was inside, my mom stopped me before I could go hide in my room. I looked up at her, waiting for her request.

“Hello, Mom.” I smiled.

“Hello, Charlotte. Can you go get the mail please? Oh, and I talked to our neighbors yesterday!” She started. Great. Another conversation. I thought she wanted me to get the mail, not chat!

“Really?” I responded, edging towards the door, shoving my hands in my black jean pockets. She nodded, eyes lighting up. I took one hand out, leaving it on the door handle, eyes checking to see if the boy was still out there. He wasn’t.

“Yeah! The people who live behind us. They have a boy who’s a year older than you. He’s also really shy. We should invite him over!” My mom cheered.

NO.

“Maybe we should settle in a little more.” I suggested before going towards the door. My mom made a little shooing motion before letting me go. I ran to the mailbox, escaping quickly.

The first thing I noticed was a little note on the front, this time in a green post-it note.

The ice cream man comes ever Monday at noon. Get the mango sherbet cup. It’s good.

I took that note, staring at it for a moment before nodding, as if the mysterious sender could see me. Okay, I’ll do it.

The next day, the ice cream man came. No one else showed up for his treats. I got the mango sherbet.

It was good.



Note #34…

A year after we moved to England, my dad thought it would be good to get a dog. That Saturday after he announced we were getting a pet, we went to the kennel and picked out a little German Shepherd puppy. We named him Ashton, or Ash for short. He was a dirty grey and brown and was as sweet as could be.

Ash was easily trained. He had an even temper but was very playful. He would sleep on my bed with me at night and lay down with his head in my lap during the afternoons when I read. Summer had come and gone. I had completed one year of school in my new home. Ash was happy to play fetch now that I wasn’t busy with math or reading.

It felt good.

I hadn’t seen that boy much. I knew he went to my school, but I never knew his name. Maybe I heard it once…perhaps twice…but not anymore. I wanted to ask my mom, but I was in love with mystery.

The notes kept on coming. I still don’t know who they’re from, but they kept on coming. Sometimes, they had a smile on them, or a little picture. Sometimes, they had little messages like, The park on Walnut Street is bad. Weird people there, or Try watching Sherlock. It’s a good show. Whoever it was had great little lines for me that always made me smile.

I left notes as well, usually on the side of my mail box. They were always in purple so the mysterious sender would know it was me. I always wrote back what I thought of the latest episode of Sherlock or Doctor Who or whatever the person recommended. We had little conversations sometimes.

I still never saw his face.

It was two weeks after we got Ash. He was laying in my lap, blinking sleepily as I stroked his fur and read my newest book. We sat in a secluded little part of my backyard. I looked up as I saw movement.

That boy was walking down his drive again. A few minutes later, he still wasn’t back. I was a little curious where he went, since he hadn’t returned and normally, he didn’t take long to get his mail.

“Come on, Ash.” I whispered as I went to the fence, quickly running out of my backyard, the puppy hot on my heels. I went down, seeing where he went. The little sprout of adventure was taking over my mind. I guess that’s what I get for reading so many adventure and action novels.

We went down to the bottom of the drive. His mailbox was right next to ours. I saw another note on our box.

Your puppy is very cute.

I smiled as I took the note down. Looking in my pockets, I grabbed out my pen. From the weeks of exchanging notes, I learned to keep purple sticky notes in my pockets at all time. A good conversation can pop up at unexpected times.

I wrote back a little thank you and placed it on my mail box, going back inside to get a snack and put my note back in my box where I kept all my mysterious sender’s notes.

I went back outside, Ash yipping quietly. I picked up the puppy, helping him down the large stairs. We went back out to my mailbox, going to turn up the neighbor’s drive for a short cut to my backyard.

A new note was there.

I was puzzled at the quickness of the sender, but didn’t question it. He, or she, had to be nearby. I couldn’t help but think of that boy…

Can I play with you dog?

I looked down at Ash who nosed at my leg. His wide eyes looked at me expectantly. I stroked his perked up ears gently. The dog whined. I took the note and sat down by my mailbox, hoping the sender would take the hint and if they’re nearby, come out. I was anxious to see who it was. Butterflies tickled my stomach in nervous waiting.

I didn’t wait long before that same brown haired boy appeared. His dark eyes were warm and soothing. He walked up to me shyly, like he was going to bolt at any moment. I held Ash in my arms as he yipped in his little puppy fierceness.

As the boy took a step closer, Ash leapt out of my arms and bolted for the boy. The kid didn’t move anywhere. He just stopped and let the puppy bowl into his legs, stepping back and looking dizzy.

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, feeling a blush rise to my cheek. The kid smiled, a dazzling glance that sent my mind spinning, like I had just run head first into a wall.

“It’s fine. What’s his name?” The kid asked.

“It’s Ashton, but Ash for short.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the puppy that jumped up. I scolded the dog as the kid knelt down. We both sat down on our street, just watching as the puppy jumped into the kid’s lap.

“Hello Ash, you’re a handsome boy.” The shy kid cooed. The dog whined and licked the kid’s hand. He was very sweet with the young pet. I smiled a little. We sat quietly, just waiting for something to happen. We didn’t really talk, just let the boy play with the dog.

Eventually the kid made the excuse he had to leave. I watched him quickly walk back to his house. I scooped my dog up into my arms and walked back into my own house.


Note #36

Late that evening, I got a note on my fence post. I went back inside after each little response, just giving the boy a chance to respond without disturbing him.

Thanks for letting me play with your puppy.

You’re welcome. He really likes you.

Ash is very adorable.

He is. What’s your name?

Oliver. Call me Oli.

Charlotte.

Hi Charlotte.

Hi Oli.


Note #104

It was exactly 366 days after I learned Oliver’s name that Ash died.

He was hit by a car that was speeding down our street. I think the driver was drunk. I know he didn’t stop. No one stopped. I was the only one that saw him. The dog died in my arms. I couldn’t do anything to save him, just like the bird. I couldn’t help.

I buried him in the backyard next to the bird. I felt like those that died the same way should be buried together.

My parents left me alone.

I just wanted to be alone.

I sat there by his grave, sobbing quietly into my arms. And when I had no more tears, I went inside, drank a glass of water, and went in a tree to cry some more.

I saw a note on the rock that marked Ash’s spot. I climbed down to read it.

I’m sorry about Ash. :( He was a good dog. I miss him too.

I took the note, shoving it into my pocket. I collapsed there, sobbing silently into my arms, back against the fence. The wood shook a little bit and something landed next to me. I curled my knees into my chest, head on my legs. I can’t see the world. The darkness in the sky reflected the hole in my heart. I missed Ash.

An arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side. I leaned into Oli, sobbing on his shirt. He rubbed my arm. I think he was shaking too.

He used to play with Ash in the afternoons. Sometimes, Oli would come over and just run around with the dog in our backyard. I would sit on our back porch, reading or napping in our hammock. We never really talked. He just played with Ash, who loved him a lot. Oli would bring him treats. His parents didn’t let him have a dog, so he liked hanging with us.

I sobbed harder at the memories.

The night wore on the. The pain never ceased. Oli stayed there until it was midnight, when I had to go inside. He gave me a hug and disappeared back over the fence and into his yard.



Note #127

It was the end of the Sophomore year in high school. I had made a few school friends and hung out with them occasionally. I searched through my backpack for my binder. I sighed as I saw that I had accidentally brought something to school.

I scanned the classroom. Two kids I knew were here in my class. Avery sat next to me. She was a sweet blonde who I had grown close with.

Oli hung in the back of the room next to Jordan.

“What’s that?” Avery asked.

“A binder. I had some pictures for a job offer.”

“Oh, no way! You’re getting a job!” She squealed, half hugging me from across the aisle. I chuckled and pushed her away jokingly. She took the folder and started to scan through the pictures in there. I had a job offer from Epitaph Records to be a photographer for some of their bands. I was super excited.

“Hey! I need that!” I chuckled. She handed it back. I felt like someone was staring at the folder, and it wasn’t just Avery and I.

“Hold on, I need to go to my locker to get my notebook.” I said. Avery came with me since she apparently just needed to get out of class. She liked to just hang around me. I didn’t mind. Ever since I met her, I had become a little more social, although I avoided most large group situations when I could.

“I’m scared for this! I hope my pictures are good enough!” I exclaimed to her as we walked back in the classroom. I spotted Oli sitting down again. I wonder what he was doing. Sharpening his pencil, perhaps.

“Dude, be brave! You’ve got this in the bag!” She patted my shoulder. I nodded, smiling weakly.

When I got home from school that day, I reached into my backpack to grab my folder of pictures to drop off. I opened it up, reviewing the shots for the last time. I saw a sticky note on each one of them.

I like this one a lot.

Is that Ash? Awww! He’s adorable!

Where did you take this? I like the scenery.

You’re an amazing photographer. You’ll get this job for sure!

It was the last note on a self-portrait that I took last year that really stuck out to me.

Is that a picture of you? God, you’re gorgeous <3

I couldn’t stop grinning. Oli was a shy boy that had courage on paper to write these to me, but he was so quiet when we met. He was amazing. And he was a bit of a flirt…unless he liked me.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I saved the notes and walked out the door.


Note #158

I had gotten the job…and at least thirty one more congratulations notes from Oliver. The last one had a surprising message on it.

My house. 15 minutes.

I was over there in ten. He let me in. Silently, we scaled the steps to his room. He let me in. Posters of bands were everywhere. I smiled as I recognized some of the names.

“I’m starting a band.”

“That’s cool. Name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good start.” I teased. He blushed. I sat down on the bed. It was easy, our relationship. We spoke with written notes, but talking still seemed easy.

“I have a song.”

“Name?”

“Traitors Never Play Hang-Man.”

“Spooky. I like it.” I said as I picked up a iPod and stared at it. He tossed me headphones and sat down beside me.

“We wrote a couple of songs.”

“We?”

“Yeah, some guys from school. They’re cool.” He took the device from my hand and plugged it in. The songs started. I opened up the folder on my phone. We finished the songs. Sweet melodies stopped. I liked those.

“You’re all really good. Record yourself?” I asked softly. He nodded.

“We’re looking at Epitaph.”

“Do it!” I poked his ribs. He laughed. I turned some pictures to him.

“I took some pictures. Do you like them?” I asked. He took the phone, squinting at the screen. His eyes lit up.

“I like the one of the horizon.”

“Me too. I showed my mom some of the hard prints and she kept yelling ‘Bring me the horizon one!’ because she wanted to hang it up on the fridge.” I chuckled. Oli’s eyes went bright.

“I like that as a band name.”

“Credit me when you go big.” I grinned. He nodded.

“I will.”


Note #300

We did it.

You or me?

We as in the band.

They accepted???

Yes!!! Epitaph is signing us on!

NO WAY!!! Okay, I’m calling to schedule you some shoots!

You’re the best! :)

You love me you know it. XD

I do.


Note #435

I was sitting at a bus stop, tears in my eyes. I don’t think I could face Oli right now.

It had been six years since I moved, six years since I met Oli. Our relationship grew. We were close friends. It seemed like we talked more and more, but even then, we still left notes. Oli moved into an apartment in the city and I moved into one as well. He stayed with his friend, Jordan. I was alone, but I didn’t mind. I got to hang with Oli almost every day and I took pictures of the bands.

Even though we were a few miles apart, I would sometimes find a few leftover sticky notes after he would come to my place to hang out. They would be in the freezer or on my bed stand. I couldn’t help but blush every time he said that I looked beautiful or I should smile more. I don’t know if he was being a flirt or…I just don’t know.

Bring Me the Horizon is on the rise. They toured Europe just last winter. They were Epitaph’s star child. I had gone on almost all their tours and performances. It was great getting to travel.

But as happy as I was with my job and my life, one phone call tore me in half. It had happened two hours ago. The marketing manager called to say that they were transferring me over to the United States. That should be great, considering they had a lot of bands over there that needed a boost in publicity and that photography would be a great step in helping them. I would be getting a raise and they would provide me a place to stay. I would be over there for two years, most likely longer.

But that was two hours ago. My bus to the airport was leaving in fifteen minutes. In an hour and a half, I would be out of here, out of the country. My parents were happy for me, but I was just sad that I wouldn’t see Oli. It was like half my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Maybe, if he came to the US on occasion, he would visit me but for now, we couldn’t leave notes back and forth. We would be done. Would he forget me in his stardom? Would he leave behind the memories?

I don’t know how I could do this move. I wasn’t strong enough, I’m not brave enough. I wish I was as brave as Oli. He wrote me the first note, saying he wished he was as brave as me. Now, it’s the opposite.

I put my head in my hands, holding back tears. The bitter wind seemed especially biting. The bus would pull up any minute.

“CHARLOTTE!” Someone called. I looked up to see a boy rushing down the empty street, running to the bus stop. I got up to see who it was.

Oli.

“Oliver, please…” I started, trying to cut off any waterworks. His hair was a mess from sprinting. He looked out of breath. His eyes were glistening with sadness.

Before I could say anything else, his arms had captured me in a hug, holding me tightly to his tattooed chest. I loved his tattoos. They were beautiful and well done. I started sniffling into his chest, my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. We stayed like that until I heard the start to slow to a stop as it rounded the corner. Oliver let me go.

“Please don’t leave. Charlotte, please just stay.” He whispered. I shook my head, wiping my eyes from the sadness.

“I have to go, Oli. It’s my job. They need me to help rising bands back in the United States.” I started off. A single little note weighed heavily in my pocket, one that I had written to him but never given. The bus stopped, the doors swinging open on squeaky hinges. I couldn’t keep it waiting forever.

“I don’t want to do this. I’m scared to move back because I’m working with other people and I don’t want to be away from you. You’re my best friend, Oli. You’re amazing and I can’t do this on my own.” I said, tears spilling.

“Charlotte, I need to tell you something.” Oli started. I took my bag in one hand, heading towards the bus. I fished the note out of my pocket, handing it to him. He looked down, reading it.

I wish I was as brave as you.

The very first note he had written to me, was the very last note I wrote to him. Tears spilled down his cheeks. I turned away, a knife ripping apart my heart.

Oli caught my hand before I stepped up onto the bus. He pulled me back, holding me tightly. His lips crashed into mine before I could argue. He pressed them there tightly, like it was his final farewell.

“I love you.” He whispered quietly under the kiss. When he released, I turned and fled up the bus. He loved me. I loved him. I couldn’t bear to see his face any longer, I couldn’t see the pain.

The bus drove away slowly, painfully.

And that was the last I saw of Oliver Sykes.



Three years later….

I was in my apartment. There were little scratches at my door, like a mouse knocking for entrance. I was tempted to call animal control. It was an off day from my job. I thought that it was going to be relaxing, but apparently, I was wrong.

I grumbled and grabbed my phone, ready to call the cops if I need to. Nobody really bothered me. Ever since I left…him…I had been a little more introverted, keeping to myself. Some days were harder than others. I look on Epitaph’s site and all they have is BMTH promos. I hurt worse after those little visions.

Pushing the thoughts away, I went to the door. The scratching stopped. I waited, checked out the peephole, and opened the door.

My door was covered top to bottom with sticky notes of different colors. They were all in Oli’s scrawling handwriting. I couldn’t help but smile and burst into tears of happiness.

You’re gorgeous. Have a great day! Keep your head up, love! Don’t forget to keep up with BBC! Have you seen the newest episodes of Doctor Who? I don’t know how I feel about the newest Doctor….Sherlock needs a new season! You should come back soon so we can go meet Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch!

I read each of these notes and grinned wider and wider. I turned, looking for the man that did this. Just a few feet away, Oli leaned against a wall, same shy smile plastered on his face.

“Oli…” I whispered.

“It’s every note I wrote to you while you were away.” He gestured to the door. That was a lot of notes…

“You didn’t forget.” I sobbed. I walked into his open arms and fell into his chest. It was familiar, usual, warm. I loved it. I loved him.

“Oli?” I asked him.

“Yes, Charlotte?”

“I forgot to tell you something before I left.” His eyes glistened with curiosity. I reached up, pressing my lips to his. I felt him relax, smiling even. I pulled away and he looked happier than ever.

“I love you too.”

Notes

So this is for BringmetheKellic! I hope you enjoyed it and I'm sorry that this was really long! I just started writing and I couldn't stop XD I hope this was cute enough for you!

Don't forget to keep on requesting one shots! I'm completely open!