Presley spent all too much time writing and sending post to her father. She didn't know why she bothered anymore. She hadn't gotten a single letter back this year, but she continued to write faithfully once a week.
Quote:
Dear Father,
I'm having loads of fun here. I've almost completely learned how to play baseball. It's just the particulars that confuse me. Like how a foul counts as a strike, but you can't get "out" on a foul. I'm doing well in classes, and I have the best friends ever. Rachel had a night-terror last night, and it freaked me out. I didn't know how to deal with that, and she didn't wake for a long time. About the holidays, you really need to write to me to let me know where we'll be going so I know what to pack. Odds are however, that you won't be reading this letter. It's really important that I know by like, next week. It is, after all, November. I miss you loads, and I'll send another letter next week.
Lots of Love,
Presley Black
Presley sent the letter off with Mercury, and watched her owl until she dissapeared into the smallest dot.
"Please, Merlin, Presley whispered.
"Make him care about me." She felt stupid for her quiet prayer. Even Merlin hadn't the power to make her father realize that small girls needed some kind of love and attention. With her mum gone, her father was the only parental figure Presley had left. And he no longer cared.