Author's Note: I'm back with more stories! This is an idea that struck me randomly one day, and I finally decided to follow through on it. It is utter and complete crack, so don't take it too first chapter is just an introduction, but every chapter after this point will include a letter and a response. This story will have quite a few more chapters than my stories usually do, and it's my attempt to ease into longer length stories. I will do my best to update weekly, but I may not be timely, and I apologize in advance. The identities of the people writing the responses (or the writer of the first letter mentioned at the bottom of this chapter) will not be revealed until the next chapter, but feel free to guess at them with a review! The identity of the person responsible for "the box" will not be revealed at all, or at least not until this story has reached its close (I have not decided yet), but the first person to guess in a review will have earned a story of their choosing written by me. I'm not sure if any of you view that as a treat, but being in control of your very own story seems like good incentive to me. If someone does guess, I will acknowledge them in the introduction to the next chapter and reveal the mystery person to all. Hint: this person will not be writing or responding to a letter. Hopefully at least a few of you will enjoy this story, and please review!

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. Does this come as a surprise to any of you?

Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen

The town of Storybrooke was in complete chaos. Full out fights were unfolding in Granny's diner. Mothers were screaming at daughters, and husbands were arguing with wives. Friends fought like enemies; lovers forgot their tenderness and exploded vehemently at each other. Everyone quarreled like cats and dogs and a few fist fights had erupted near the bar. Food was flying everywhere, hateful curses ringing out for all to hear. The whole town was involved in this uproar, save one person. One person was quietly observing the situation, sitting in the background. One person could see the town going to hell, and decided to do something about it.

The next day, there was a box nailed to the telephone pole in front of Granny's. In the box, there was a legal pad, the type where one can simply tear off the sheets, and a pen. Above the box, there was a sheet of paper with a letter typed on it. The letter read:

People of Storybrooke,

This madness cannot go on any longer. When did our town stop being one of love and become one of hate? Fighting is not the answer. It will not solve your problems. All it will do is stir up anger and animosity among you. I have thought long and hard about the cause of this chaos, and have concluded that it is due to problems that our townspeople have, but cannot resolve on their own. The obvious solution would be to talk to someone about them, but it is difficult to let people in to know your deepest secrets. Therefore, I have come up with this box. In it, you will find a pad of paper and a pen. The rules are simple. Write down your dilemma on a piece of paper, tear it off the pad, and place it in the box. Address the letter to 'Dear Friend', because we are all friends in this town, and we need to remember that. Within 24 hours, someone needs to find the letter and answer it honestly, but kindly, putting themselves in that person's shoes, and then place the reply back in the box. That person will then have earned the right to write a letter about their own problem and place it in the box. This process will continue until the entire town has had a turn to talk through their troubles. All of this will be anonymous, of course; sign your letters with a pseudonym, preferably one related to the issue at hand. This will lessen the risk involved for you, and hopefully make it more likely to be successful. I sincerely hope that this will be enough to mend the damage we have done to our once kind and loving community.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen

The box stood unchanged for three days. By this point, the entire town had read the letter, puzzled over what it could mean, and what they should do, but nobody had written a letter, no one wanting to be the first. Finally, at sunset on the third day, someone walked up to the box and placed a neatly creased sheet carefully into its bottom.