Dear Friend

((Sensitive Content Warning: Suicide, Profanity, Substance Abuse)

“Firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.” At least that’s what google says. To be honest, if this was a published novel or what I’m trying to say is if those first two sentences were in a book then normally the character would follow up with a beautiful saying about trust and what it means to them. I don’t know if trust is even real anymore. It’s like I can’t say anything anymore without the world finding out too. Here’s where my beautiful quote will come in though: I think picture trusting a person like a beautiful flower bud opening. I still don’t know if that makes sense, and I apologize if it doesn’t.  

Mom used to say I was an overthinker. Dad used to say I talked too much, and I talked too little. (Depended on the day.) My sister of course said I was annoying, but I guess she's not wrong. She is my sibling after all. This was of course after my older sister killed herself. But I guess I can talk about that later. 

I’m back. I had to take a break for a bit. I’m sorry if you still don’t understand. The thing is I was—oh never mind. You know, the only reason I’m writing this was because I saw something online that said writing helps when you’re overthinking. I think it’s helping. I hope it is. 

 I guess we can start talking about trust again. I’ve always been hesitant to ask people about trust. Sarah was truly an inspiration for me. (Sarah’s my sister by the way.) She was the bubbliest person in the world. She loved everyone around her, and she was so pretty. Absolutely stunning.  

I wish she hadn’t killed herself.  

I had to take another break. Sorry. My hand was beginning to get sore, plus I was getting quite hungry. I’ve noticed life’s very quiet without Sarah. My world seems...slower...quieter? There’s got to be a word for it.  

Mom’s been looking paler lately and she’s become more...I can’t think of a word again. She’s been very worried. I think she should take a break. Dad’s been at work longer. Or at least that’s what it seems. He’s been quiet too. When Sarah was still around, he was the loudest person in the world. Maybe Sarah and I got that from him. Must be in our bloodline.  

I think my favorite memory of Sarah was watching her. And no, I didn’t hover over her all the time. But I loved watching her grow. Seeing her hair become longer. Watching her face mature. It’s all the little things I loved about her. I looked up to her so much. I don’t have anyone like that anymore.  

Sorry. Again. Sarah died of an overdose. She was sixteen. Drugs were ‘cool.’ Everyone her age wanted a sniff or a puff. Fucking dumbass. I’m sorry. I don’t normally swear like that. I hope you understand. I just miss her a lot. A lot, a lot. You know? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bore you.  

Mom’s been spending most of her time trying to get me a therapist lately. I don’t want one. I rather just talk to you. I mean, I might’ve stolen this from The Perks of Being a Wallflower but hey, it still helps. I also lied about the internet stuff. I don’t normally go on the web. I don’t like it anyways. But I guess writing does help now. The only thing is I guess I could reveal my identity, I just don’t know how to introduce myself. I’m not good with people. I don’t even like people. I don’t trust them.  

I think when I get older, I’m going to travel the world a lot. One thing I’d like to do is visit space. Everything is endless around me. There’re also no people. (Except for people on the spaceship.) So, I guess that’s a pro. I think about running away sometimes too. Just the thrill and excitement will be great. I think I’m going to need friends first though.  

I’m starting school for the first time tomorrow. Well...for the first time since Sarah, died. It’s okay though. Right? Is it okay to be, okay? I don’t even know if I’m okay. Should I even be going to school? At times like these I would have Sarah help me make decisions. But she’s not around anymore.  

Is it wrong for me to not feel anything at all from this whole...event? I don’t want to say I’m not sad, because of course I am sad, but I don’t ‘feel’ sad. There’s got to be a word for this too! I’m almost angry too. Bittersweet ambivalence, that’s what google is telling me. I just smashed the two words in a phrase though.  

I think I might burn this letter when I’m done with this. I said again that I don’t mind revealing my identity (unlike Charlie (that’s the guy from The Perks of Being a Wallflower)) Can you even put parenthesis in parenthesis? Never mind. Back to how I feel about revealing myself. Again, I don’t mind, but I don’t want people to know how I feel. Especially not now. Plus, I don’t even know how I feel, so how would I explain it? 

This whole thing feels like a rant, so I’m sorry if this bothers you. Maybe this is too much. I don’t know. God, I really do need Sarah to come back. Why did she kill herself? I mean, she looked happy. She was happy. I think. I hope.  

Truth is, I’m angry Sarah didn’t tell or talk to me about any of this. Of course, she’s older and she wants to protect me and be the role model I look up to, but I deserve to know. I was her sister. Maybe she didn’t believe in trust either. No, maybe she just didn’t trust me.  

After Sarah’s death I’ve had so many thoughts rushing about my head. Is this even normal? I’ve also been having these flashbacks. I watched Sarah die. I remember it so clearly. She was taking too long in the bathroom, and I picked up the lock with a bobby pin. I wish I hadn’t. Why did I do that? I found her lying on the ground barely breathing. I let her die. I didn’t even scream. I didn’t call an ambulance or call for help. She barely spoke and, in a whisper, asked me to come over to her. She told me to close and lock the door and I followed her instructions. Then she told me that trust is something you’ll only see once in a lifetime.  

Love, Anna 

p.s. I don’t think I trusted Sarah.