Letters from K.

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Dear Mom, I met someone today. A girl. Her name is Rebekah, and she is the strangest person I have ever met. You told me that people tend to forget what others think as they grow up. You stop caring. She already doesn’t care. She is as wild as ...

Dear Mom,
I met someone today. A girl. Her name is Rebekah, and she is the strangest person I have ever met. You told me that people tend to forget what others think as they grow up. You stop caring. She already doesn’t care. She is as wild as her hair. She’ll laugh full and long. Her smiles can change the whole day from a bad one to a good one. I hope Rebekah and I are going to be friends for a long time.

-K


Dear Mom,
Do you remember Rebekah? The girl I met at this new school. Well something really strange happened. She kissed me. We were sitting on the couch watching a movie, then she leaned in an just kissed me. It was nice, but I don’t have feelings like that for her. When I told her I just wanted to stay friends, she looked pretty hurt. I men, that’s to be expected right? Mom, I wish you were here. I don’t want to lose her friendship. I just hope this will all blow over.

-K

Dear Mom,
I went to Rebekah’s house for the first time. I wasn’t exactly invited, but she wasn’t in school today, and when I texted her she didn’t answer. It’s strange, Rebekah is easily my best friend, but I’ve never been to her house. The house is the exact opposite of Rebekah. She is loud, colourful, wild and attention grabbing. The house is small white, and I almost missed it. When I knocked, Rebekah answered, but she didn’t seem like herself. She looked like she was crying. But she just took her books and pushed me out as fast as possible. I hope she’s okay.

-K

Dear Mom,
I am really worried about Rebekah. She’s so quiet now, I’m lucky if I can get ten words out of her. She falls asleep in class, and she gets so angry so easily. I just want to help. I think I saw cuts on her thighs when we were changing for gym. Who do I talk to about this mom? I need you here, I need a hug, and I need Rebekah to let me help her. She isn’t telling me anything, she insists she’s fine, but I know she’s lying. I want my best friend back. Hold on, my phone is ringing.

-K

Dear Rebekah,
I don’t want to write letters to you too! Beckie, your my best friend! Please, I just want to help, I want to be there for you. But you have to let me. You’ve been there for me since I moved here, and we’ve been joined at the hip ever since. I was the first person you came out to, the first person I told the real reason I moved her. We were best friend-mates. This place isn’t you. You are not sterile hospitals that are way too quiet despite the machines. You are rock concerts and festivals, and summer. Your mom was here too, she seems nice. She’s scared, well, we all are. There are letters from all of your friends, and from the whole arts department. Everyone wants you to get better. I made your mom leave so she could sleep and shower. But I guess I just wanted to be alone so that she couldn’t see me cry. Please wake up, I miss you.

-K

 

 

Dear Mom,
She woke up!
-K.

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