The single piece of paper in front of me was blank. It was the only thing the oak desk carried, if you wouldn't count my left hand and the poised pen I was holding, tapping on the wood. I sighed and leaned back on the chair. The curtains had started to billow, bringing with it the warm summer breeze and smell of freshly mowed lawn.

　　Ah. . . To be a June bride. Which brings me to my duties.

　　The paper was still blank when I returned to it. That was drawback of having no powers. Even if you stared at it the whole day like what I've been doing, your wedding vows wouldn't magically write itself.

　　"Destiny?" Ester called from outside the room. She knocked on the door twice. "Destiny, you better be finishing that."

　　"Go away," I said. "I'm sleeping."

　　"You wedding is tomorrow."

　　The chair creaked as I shifted my weight. "So what? I'm not allowed to sleep?"

　　I could imagine her shaking her head and folding her arms. She'd expect her brother to act like this, not me.

　　Pity the door was locked. Pity she wouldn't be able to barge in here and tell me what to do. Nyahahaha. One point for Destiny.

　　"I never said you can't sleep," Ester scoffed. "Of course you can. After you make your vows." It was just like her to put an emphasis on what she wanted to be done. She had a lifetime of training with Spencer.

　　"Okay. Okay," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Sheesh. Can't a bride have some peace around here?"

　　There was a pause.

　　"You'll get it tomorrow." Her voice was softer. "Now finish what you're supposed to do. I'm going back after an hour to check on you. Be prepared." Her footsteps receded on the hallway.

　　I groaned and leaned my forehead against the table. Did she think it was easy? Psh! For her maybe. She'd written scientific journals and contributed to the greater good. Heck, she was giving a speech about climate change when I called to say I was getting married. A wedding vow was nothing to her. She'd finish it in five minutes' tops and would have enough time to save baby dolphins.

　　I snorted at the thought.

　　Typical. Very typical.

　　The curtain caressed my face as another breeze came in.

　　I turned my head to the single bed on my right. The quilt cover was fraying on the edges. It's been around for as long as the other things inside the room— the brown dresser, the ceiling fan, the once white carpet, the Destiny's Child posters.

　　A smile crept to my face. Way back then, we were so addicted to them, we knew their songs by heart.

　　Yup. Even Spencer.

　　My gaze traveled the length of the room some more, then went back to the dresser. The two wooden puppets sitting on top of it stared back at me. "Aren't you glad we're home?" I whispered.

　　They didn't answer. They never did.

　　Propping myself up, I breathed in before turning to the paper. My eyes squinted. My palms fisted. I clenched my teeth and grunted.

　　God, I felt constipated.

　　But it was worth a shot. Maybe I'd discover I had powers after all. No one could see me anyway.

　　The distinct sound of a lawn mower revving made its way to my ears. Crap. The people next door was doing their afternoon routine. Which means there was barely any time left. Which means I sucked. Which means my life was over.

　　I ruffled my hair. This wouldn't do. I was too preoccupied.

　　I stared at the puppets. Boy and Girl hadn't budged an inch from the dresser, yet by the way they gaped at me, it felt like they were privy to my thoughts.

　　"Don't give me that look. I need to make my wedding vows."

　　A sudden gust of wind came in, tilting Boy's head sideward.

　　I pursed my lips. "You think I should resolve my issues first, don't you?"

　　Another gust of warm wind, and Girl's head nodded forward.

　　I lifted my hands and shrugged. "Fine. You guys win. But just so we're clear, this is a one-time thing. You're not the boss of me."

　　Scowling, I dragged my chair closer to the table. Ester had always been the thinker of our group. Spencer was the doer. Me? I liked letters. Been sending it to someone for a long time.

　　I poised the pen to the paper. The vows should be my main concern, but forget about that for a second. Forget about the wedding. Forget about the gown that was waiting for me in the other room, or the busy guests preparing downstairs. There was something I had to do first. A closure.

　　They said that writing anything was easy, especially a letter. They said that you only had to gather your thoughts and put it on paper. To me it was a bit different. Anything that would allow me to expose myself was savage.

　　Bracing myself, I slit my wrist and began to bleed.

　　Dear Ex-Girlfriend, I wrote.