The Letter

[Roccoluver]

Story Title: The Letter

Type of story: one shot

Main Characters: Two Original Characters; Mark & Susan, Sally and Rocco.

BTTB rating: T

Genre: *none*

Does story include spoilers: No

Any warnings: None

Summary: Mark and Susan search an abandoned house for hidden treasure 50 years from now

I don't like the way this fic turned out in the end, but I think its okay so I hope you like it.

The Letter

Mark bounded past Susan down the drive nearly knocking her for a six.

“Hey watch it bozo” she shouted after him.

“Last one there is a rotten egg” he replied back, running into the fence.

“Haha”

“Shut up, that hurt” he moaned rubbing his chest.

Susan giggled as she looked at the dilapidated house, It was a pale yellow colour. It’s weather boards falling off and rotting. The faded green painted around the window sill was cracked and windows them selves smashed.

“It’s been ages since someone has lived here” Mark commented, pulling the fly door off it hinges and opening the front door.

“Yah don’t say” Susan replied sarcastically.

Mark glared at her as he walked into the house, stepping over the rubbish and junk that scattered the floor.

“I heard that gangs used this place as their hideout, who knows what we’ll find” he gleefully.

Susan trembled slightly “Is this such a good idea? I mean what if they still use this place?” She really didn’t want to bump into any thugs. Not without her pepper spray anyway.

Mark grinned stupidly as he opened the door to a closet. His face went pale as a shocked expression covered his face. “Argh, help!”

Susan screamed and grabbed a metal pipe off the floor and raced over to Mark, who was dieing… of laughter.

“Gotcha”

Susan felt the blood rush back to her as she dropped the pipe.

“You…you jerk”

“Sorry” Mark laughed, buckling over in laughter.

Susan shook her head and looked in the closet, a silver briefcase caught her eye, its shininess that looked out of place in the faded and dark litter of junk.

“Hey, help me with this” She ordered Mark who stood up and grabbed the corner of the suitcase and tugged it out. It slide out with relative ease and they carried to the table and placed it there.

“How are we going to get into it” Mark said, Susan sighed it would be locked but no harm in checking.

“It was unlocked”

“Who cares about that, look at all this money” Mark exclaimed and he was right, There were piles and piles of thousand dollar notes.

“We’re rich” Susan shouted, lifting up one of the notes, a frown crossed her face.

“What?” Mark asked worriedly.

“This is Australian currency”

“Damn! Why did they have to bring in the ANZAC currency before we found this?”

“They brought it in before we were born”

“Exactly” Mark replied glumly.

Susan glazed sadly around the house, a fold piece of paper caught her eye, she walked over and picked up off the ground.

“What’s that?” Mark asked, looking over her shoulder.

“It’s a letter” Susan replied reading it carefully.

To Sally

Its hard to write this after everything I did to you. I just need to say that I am truly sorry for betraying you in the worst way ever .

You gave me a taste of the life that I could never have and I want you to know I thank you for that. It's meant so much to me.

You were willing to give me chance, when no one else was.

I hope that you never blame yourself for what happened. In hindsight the fault lands back on me, if I had talked to someone, maybe made more of an effort to stand up to Johnny, if I hadn't stabbed you, maybe I wouldn't be here but I guess that's why its could hindsight. I really do wish I could make it better.

Thanks for everything.

Please - always know that I love you - you were the only mother I've ever really had.

You are really an amazing person - thank you for giving me faith in people again - I now know that people who are truly good and pure do exist.

I don't expect you to ever forgive me. Because I won't forgive myself for hurting you. Ever.

Rocco.

Susan gazed at the letter in her hand before turning to face Mark. Folding the letter and slipping it into her pocket she looked at him.

“We have to give this to Sally”

“Oh yeah cause that’s going to be so easy”

“We have to”

“Susan, reality check!. We don’t know this Sally person last name, if they’re dead, or gone from the bay. We don’t even know how long ago it was written”.

Susan nodded, Mark was right. They didn’t know any Sally’s, unless you counted Sally Hallwood in year 7.

“Wait” She said thinking about a recent new article.

“What about that woman…”

“There’s a lot of woman in Summer Bay”

“No, well yes. Shut up. That Sally woman whos been in the bay for 50 years, the one who arrived with a foster family and has helped all those kids.”

Mark stared at her.

“Come on it’s worth a try.”

“Yes, Hi Sally we don’t know you but did you know a Rocco, you don’t, oh it doesn’t matter mustn’t be you. Goodbye” Mark mocked.

“That was pathetic”

Sally hobbled out of the couch and made her way to the door. It shouldn’t be Ric or Cassie they’d both be at work, plus Brad was upstairs snoozing. Maybe it be Leah come for their afternoon tea.

She opened the door to two nervous looking teenagers, she hadn’t hear any windows breaking.

“Yes?”

“Your Sally right?”

Sally frowned slightly.

“Yes?”

The guy elbowed the girl, who glared at him and pulled a note out of her pocket.

“Did you know a Rocco by any chance?”

Sally felt a slight shiver at the mention of his name.

“Yes”

The guy turned to the girl and whispered to her.

“Maybe she’s got compulsive yes syndrome”

The girl glared at him and thrust the note at Sally.

“I think you should have this…. Well bye”

With that the girl and guy walked down the path and pass the carvans.

Sally closed the door, frowning she opened the letter. It was old and crinkled, the writing faded and hard to read. She felt memories flood back to her as if it was yesterday, the pain and regret of a young life lost. No matter what the letter said she’d always blame herself, she had failed him and he had died.

She didn’t realize she was crying till a tear drop hit the letter, to think this could have been Rocco’s last writings. If only she’d pushed him hard, if only he’d opened up to her. Maybe then she would been able to witness four of her children grow up instead of three.

“Mum what’s wrong?” Pippa asked as she entered the house.

“Nothing” she lied.

“What’s that”

Sally folded the letter and slipped it carefully into her pocket, sitting on the couch she smiled at her daughter.

“Pippa I think it’s time I tell you about your brother”

“Ric?”

“No not Ric” she felt tears build up in her eyes.

“His name was Rocco and…..”

The End

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