How to Be a Good Person

I was never perfect.

I may or may not have done a few shady things before.

And that’s why I’m writing to you right now. 

For a while, I’ve struggled on the beginning. How would I start this letter? Dear Sara, this is all my fault? Long time no see, friend? I know you’re mad at me but I’m a better person now?

They all sounded bad. So here’s what I thought of instead:

Hi. I’m sorry about your loss. I would know how you feel. Especially since I’m in big trouble. Trouble much larger than getting caught or being discriminated.

Because we’ve been friends (just admit it. We’ve known each other since elementary school) for a while, I want you to know how much I’ve regretted my decisions. More than words can ever describe. 

So I settled on a bit of advice to give you. I can imagine you chuckling darkly as you read the title I gave it.

How to be a Good Person

Step One - Something that you should get in your head is that lying never works: Maybe if you’re sly about it, it’ll slip by a few times. But because I know you (and because I know you won’t be offended), you’re a terrible liar, and even some of the most oblivious people can tell when you fib.

Step Two - Forgive and Forget: Even if you’re the most honest person known to mankind, if sympathy isn’t in your dictionary, nothing else matters. I’ve had first hand experience with this (hint hint: think me and you). If you truly want to be a good person, learn how to act out of the pure goodness of your heart. The result is very rewarding.

Step Three - On the Other Hand, be Sure to Stand Up for Yourself: And others. On the other hand, be sure to stand up for yourself and others. Arg- I hate writing with a pen. As I was saying, true goodness is to stand up for yourself and others. As I heard someone say once: “To be a bystander is to be the bully”. To let things happen and not to change them, when someone’s fate could literally change if you simply open your mouth and speak, is plain cruelty. What if I told you that I walked by when I heard shouting nearby during high school? Not only that, I knew that it was Nori’s voice, high and pleading. Do you remember Nori, Sara? Do you remember that her favorite color was green, that her favorite ice cream flavor was cookies and cream? Do you remember how she flinched when you bullied and taunted her? What about when she asked why you had turned on her friends? Do you remember her expression when you last spoke to her? How hurt she looked? Do you remember, Sara?

Step Four - You are the Worst: Say it to yourself. Say it again. And again. Do what ever you need to do to make yourself humble again. Arrogance is the enemy. Remember that.

Step Five - Remember: Did you know that Nori lives on South Street now? Mm-hmm. Just a block away from you. You never knew, didn’t you? At least, you never remembered. You never remembered how happy she looked when she told us. If you remember, you save. If you forget, you hurt.

Step Six - Your Favorite Number: I remember that your favorite number was six. Is it still that way? So much has probably changed since we last spoke. Nori’s horrified face when the two of us turned on her haunts my nightmares. Read that sentence again. Nori haunts my dreams. They say that dreams are just your self-conscious talking to you. Maybe they are.

I hope this helps. Since we haven’t spoken in a few years, I’ll catch you up on a bit of stuff:

I’m in the hospital right now. The police caught and interrogated me. Luckily, you destroyed all the evidence, so thank you for that. I still had to plead to them about why I’ve changed, but before they could punish me, I got sick.

They aren’t telling me what it is, and by the looks they’re giving me, it’s pretty serious. I’m starting to feel it now. My legs are numbing. I’m coughing a lot, and I have a fever.

Someone named Nicholas Matthews is my doctor. He takes care of me. He’s pretty young, about my age, and seems pretty concerned. I like him.

…You know I don’t like him in that way. Relationships have never been my thing.

My memory is starting to falter. Someone with short brown hair and blue eyes visits me pretty often. He looks familiar, and he feels somewhat significant. I think he’s my brother.

I also don’t remember what my last name is. I know my first name is Julia, but I can’t seem to figure out what my last name is, or even if I have a middle name.

People say that words are so much more powerful than pictures, but I desperately want to draw one last sketch of the three of us -Nori, you, and I- sitting together. But my hands are getting shaky enough, so apologies if the rest of this is barely legible.

Along with my memory faltering, my mind is clouding. I can barely speak full sentences anymore. Only when I write does my mind unclog somewhat.

I still love nature, though. I still love golden finches and peonies. I remember that Nori still likes seaweed, and that you have an odd obsession with Japanese maple trees.

I still like icing, especially on birthday cake. I still like to laugh until my belly hurts (although I don’t do much of that now). I still like dogs and gerbils. I still like Siamese fighting fish. I still despise deviled ham.

I hope that this letter has helped you “hate me less” (ha ha ha. We know that that’s probably not going to happen), and there is so much more I want to say to you, but I’m running out of paper. Dr. Matthews is also telling me to rest now.

It’s been so long. Just know that if you don’t see me again, I miss you. I miss the both of you so much.

Love,

Julia