Girl Sends Letters to Late Mom Asking to Take Her Away from Aunt, Gets a Reply in Mailbox — Story of the Day

“We are getting late. Can you make it fast?” Carla told Vicki, her little niece, when she was laying the wreath on her mother’s grave at the funeral. Carla grabbed Vicki’s hand and led her to the car. Her heart still seethed with anger for her late sister that she didn’t even want to stand there a minute more.

She took her little niece under her wing not because she loved her. But because Vicki was the only heiress to her late mother’s property. Carla knew she could only claim everything that once belonged to her late sister by adopting her orphaned daughter.

Vicki then arrived at her aunt’s large mansion, like the ones she’d seen and read about in books. It looked gothic for its age. When Vicki stepped into her aunt’s house, she did not get a warm, homely feeling.

Toys and dolls were scattered on the floor as Anna, her 12-year-old cousin, stopped scribbling on her drawing book. Carla was single mother and lived with Anna in their house far from a cluttered neighborhood.

It was close to dinner, and Vicki was hungry. She remembered her dog Roger who would always sit beside her, waiting for her to toss a treat whenever she ate. She looked around, but he was not there.

“Where’s my dog, Roger? You didn’t bring him?”

“My daughter is allergic to pets. So I sent Roger to an animal shelter.”

Tears rose in Vicki’s eyes. She missed Roger but trusted her aunt when she told her he would be fine at the shelter. She then dragged the chair to sit for the meal, but Carla suddenly stopped her.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? This is my house, and I have my own rules. And you must obey me,” Carla said in a stern, wicked tone.

“Bring us the plates and set the table. I will give you food and shelter as long as you are grateful to me. I’m your aunt, and I deserve respect, considering how your mother ruined my life. NOW GO… BRING THE FOOD FROM THE KITCHEN AND PLATE IT.”

Vicki’s heart shuddered. She was frightened and ran into the kitchen, tearing up. Nobody had been so rude to her before. She set the table with food and desserts and then ate quietly.

Later that night, Carla showed Vicki her room—a small, dim-lit storeroom. Her bed was in a corner, with a small table to keep a water bottle and a lamp.

Vicki made her bed and curled up but couldn’t sleep. She pressed her face on the window sill and cried, reminiscing about her heavenly life with her mom and Roger.

“Mommy, I miss you.” Vicki cried, returning to the moment. “I want to see you. I know you’re with daddy in heaven. Send Roger to me. He’s all I have now. I don’t like aunt Carla. She’s making me cry.”

When Vicki opened her eyes, it was already morning. She’d cried herself to sleep.

As time passed, she got used to her new life. She did the dirty dishes every morning and cleaned the dining table before leaving for school. Those hours in the classroom were the only peaceful time Vicki had for herself.

She started isolating herself from friends and spent every minute she got for herself. She didn’t like Carla picking her up from school and missed the beautiful rides she enjoyed with her mother. There were no pleasant weekends again. Saturdays and Sundays turned into nightmares for Vicki.

Carla and Anna spent their Sundays mostly in elegant restaurants and amusement parks. But they never took Vicki along. Instead, she was tasked with all the household chores.

Carla created a timetable for Vicki’s duties on Sundays. Her day would start with doing the dirty dishes and then cleaning. She had to wash and scrub the floor and then rake dry leaves in the garden. Before she could take a break to relax, it would already be past afternoon.

“Everybody must learn to work hard from an early age!” Carla constantly advised Vicki. But she had exempted her own daughter Anna from that piece of wisdom.

Anna did nothing at home and always needed Vicki’s help, even to tie her shoelaces or keep her smelly boots on the shoe rack.

Vicki had no choice but to obey them. She always returned home from school to deal with some new tantrum Anna threw. But she never complained or brought it to her aunt’s notice. It would be useless – Carla always sided with her daughter.

She endured her aunt’s stern and cold attitude, but Anna was unbearable, and her hatred for Vicki reached new heights day by day. Another nightmare was on Vicki’s way that day, and it was so horrible that she had no choice but to reach out to her dead mother for help.

That evening, Anna was already in a terrible mood. “Hey, wash my soiled boots. I have to wear them for horse riding next week.”

Vicki was so exhausted and had been waiting for the break to nap. So she refused to do it. Anna, who hated being turned down, was beyond frustrated.

“How dare you say no to me,” she fumed. Anna grabbed Vicki’s long hair and cut it with scissors.

“Anna, what did you do??” Vicki burst into tears and ran to her room. Her long hair was her late mother’s love. It was gone. Her beautiful hair was trimmed to a mess.

“Mommy, why are aunt Carla and Anna so cruel to me? What did I do? Please, help me, mommy,” Vicki buried her face into her pillow and cried. Then, a strange idea struck her.

She began writing a letter to her late mother. Vicki began spilling her heart out on the paper.

“Dear Mommy, I do not like to live in this home. Aunt Carla, Anna are teribel. They make me do all work. My hands hurting mommy. My nails broke. Anna took scissor and cut my hair. I look ugly. Roger is in animal shelter. Aunt Carla sell our home. Our beds, table, flowerpots, paintings all gone. She is not nice mommy. Take me from her. With Love Vicki.”

Vicki tucked the letter addressed “To My Dear Mommy in Heaven” into an envelope and couldn’t wait to post it in the mailbox on the way to her school the next day.

The following morning, Vicki left for school after finishing her work. Carla did not drop her as punishment for disobeying Anna. So Vicki had to walk to school, which was pretty close by. She used it to her best advantage and posted the letter in the mailbox. Later that afternoon, after school, she ran to the mailbox to check if her letter had been taken.

“My letter is gone! It’s on the way to mommy!” she jumped in delight. Days passed, but Vicki was yet to get a reply. She was hurt . “It must have got lost on the way to heaven. I’ll write another one tonight.”

She was heartbroken and felt her only hope was reaching out to her late mother. She penned another letter to her mom and put it in the mailbox the next day. She found the envelope missing again, but nothing happened.

Vicki was distraught but continued posting the letters. At some point, she lost hope of getting an answer. Deep inside, her heart told her to await a reply.

One day, when Vicki least expected it, she found a letter in the mailbox. She was stunned when she saw it was addressed to her.

Vicki hastily tore it open. The words she read were unbelievable as tears gushed into her eager eyes.

“Hi, Vicki! Your mother cannot write back to you. But you can consider me as her messenger! And I want you to know that you are not alone. I want to help you. I will be waiting near your school gate tomorrow.”

“If it’s not my mommy, then who is this?” Vicki thought. She could not wait to see her mother’s messenger.

Vicki anxiously stood near the gate, looking around. Then, she noticed a man, waving at her.

“Are you the messenger my mommy sent?” she asked as Larry, the local mailman, smiled at her and nodded.

“Not exactly! But I read all your letters,” Larry said.

“You didn’t see my mommy??” she was disheartened.

“No, I didn’t because we don’t get to see those in Heaven,” Larry added. “We cannot send or receive letters from them. But I’m sure your mother worries about you.”

Vicki had never felt so downhearted before. After a momentous silence, Larry said something that lit her teary eyes with a sliver of hope.

“I did not meet your mother, nor do I know her. But I’m sure she sent me to help you. Let’s go to your aunt’s house.”

Larry’s words felt like the brightest ray of sunshine bursting through a dark cloud. Vicki arrived home with Larry, and Carla was shocked.

“Why are you so late today?” she questioned.

“Mrs. Reggie, can we please talk? There’s something I want to tell you,” Larry chimed in. Carla led him into the living room.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Mrs. Reggie, if you don’t stop ill-treating your niece, I’ll have to call Child Protective Services on you.”

Carla was stunned and stared right into Vicki’s eyes.

“Oh, I don’t understand what you’re saying. I think there’s been a mistake. Vicki was pampered and spoiled by her mother. I just tried to put her on the track by teaching her some manners,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, why would I treat my niece badly?”

“Hmmm… See you around, Mrs. Reggie. Take care, Vicki. You can always meet me at the post office if there’s anything, alright?”

Vicki nodded, and after Larry left, she witnessed the horrific side of her aunt. It was a hundred times more terrifying than what she’d seen before.

“How dare you complain about me to that mailman? You ungrateful little imp,” Carla yelled at Vicki. Carla grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dark cellar. She knew Vicki was frightened of darkness and rats and decided to teach her a lesson for disobeying her.

“Stay right here. How ungrateful you are, just like your mother. No bed or blanket until you come crying to me, begging for an apology. Get the hell outta my sight! You will live in the cellar now. Sleep with the rats until you learn to appreciate me.”

Carla slammed the door shut as Vicki cried and pleaded with her to let her out.

“Aunt Carla, I’m sorry. Please, let me out. I’m scared! I can hear noises down here. Please, it’s scary. Let me out!”

Vicki banged on the door and sat on the stairs, frightened and hungry. She could not stand the moldy smell, and the squeaking rats terrified her. Vicki pressed her eyes onto little hole in the door and looked for Carla and Anna. But nobody was there.

“Mommy, please help. I want to go from here. Why is there no miracle to help me, mommy?”

The following day, Vicki woke up to a loud creaking sound. She had fallen asleep on the stairs and rose, thinking her aunt had finally come to take her out. But when the door fully opened, a strange woman was standing there. It was not her aunt.

“Hey, Vicki, can you come out of that darkness on your own, or do you need help?” the lady asked.

Vicki slowly got up and crawled her way up the stairs. It was cold down there, and her joints were stiff. She grabbed the woman’s hand and came out, only to see her aunt and cousin answering a CPS investigator.

As it turned out, Larry knew he could not trust Carla again. So, he had called CPS that morning before leaving for work and had requested them to pay a surprise visit to Carla’s house.

Carla had tried her best to turn the officers away by telling them Vicki was fine and asleep in her room. But they checked the whole house and finally found her locked in the basement.

The woman then took Vicki away in her car to drop her where she truly deserved to be.

“Where are we going?” Vicki was curious.

“To your new family, sweetie. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

Vicki was surprised by the sudden string of miracles in her life. She could not wait to see who would be her new foster family.

“IT’S YOU!!” Vicki shouted joyfully and ran toward Larry and his wife, Amanda, who was waving at her from their porch.

“ROGER!!” Vicki shrieked and burst into tears when her dog Roger jumped on her and pushed her onto the grass. He licked her face, and they cuddled. Larry found and brought Roger home from the animal shelter after reading about him in Vicki’s letter.

Larry and Amanda were moved to tears at seeing such a heartwarming scene. A few months later, they adopted Vicki and introduced her to their other two kids, Shaun and Shelly.

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A stepson who was always mocked and poorly treated by his adoptive parents thought he would have to endure this forever. But one day, the letters they hid from him changed everything. Click here to read the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.