To my friend who I love so dear,

I’ve missed you so much since you moved away. My life has been Hell. I’ve hated every moment of it. Buy all of it will be better soon. I’ll be going away for a while so this will be my last letter for a bit. I’ve never told you about my life since I met you and after you left. I guess I should tell you then. All right but he could be long.

My life started when I was 6. Before that I have no memory. It’s sad, yes, but I’ve learned to deal. I lived with my mother and step-father. I never knew my real father at this time. My mother loved me with all her heart, and she never let me leave her side. I miss those days when I could be right next to her. Waiting for another hug. But those times grew short and dim.

My mother died on the day of my seventh birthday. It was one of the worst days of my life, or so I thought. My step-father took me in even though I was told I was going to be living with my aunt. My step-father did not like me. No not at all!

The second we got home it started. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. smoked it as far as he could then put it out. Using my arms! He did this every time he wanted to smoke. What was even worse was he smoked two packs a day. The pain in my arms was terrifying! All down my arms were burn marks and scares. I still have them. But I cover them up with sleeves and make up.

At school a teacher noticed the scares and send me away. They put my step-father in jail and sent me to live with my aunt.

I had never net this person so I was very scared. I was almost 9 years old. I walked up to their very large house and opened the door. The room smelled like a strong perfume and peppermint. Not a very good mix. My Aunt was fat, and she towered over me. I never got to like her. I only stayed there for about three weeks when they found my real father.

I was sent there to live. I stayed there until I was 12. I loved it with my father. I had fun with him, and he loved me back. Then the sad news came. No good news ever stayed in my life. My father had cancer and only had about two more years to live. I was 13 at the time. A fresh new teenager ready for the world. He lasted until I was 16. He died on my birthday. I was sent to live with a foster parent until I was 18. That’s when I got out into the world. I received my license, and got a job. I paid my own way through collage, and got a job as a teacher. I was 22.

Life was never good for me. Look at me! I’m 30 years old and hate life. But why should I love it? I don’t know. I have no reason for it. And it has no reason for me.

When I turned 23 I met you. And my life turned around. You were the best friend a person could ever have! You made me feel like a someone. You helped me whenever I was sad.

Then you got the transfer notice. You were to get a job at a new school. I was 24 and you were 26. You left and I was left alone. I sent you letters every week and you always responded back.

Then you stopped. For about a year you stopped. You were too busy to send me a letter. I understood, your school was giving you a hard time. I was sad that year though.

I couldn’t teacher right. I couldn’t do anything right! I was alone in everything I did. No one cared about me. I stopped teaching and left. I stayed at home and never came out. I was 26. When I was 28 I gave up. I fell into a hold and would never come out. I stopped reading your letters and couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t write. Depression had gotten to me.

I’m now thirty and am ending it here. I don’t want to go on. So I leave this blank sheet of paper to you. It’s all I have. Oh and this knife. But I don’t think you will want it soon. It will shed too many bad memories.

With much Love,

Your Blank sheet of paper

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Hikaru: Read and review. to think I got this idea from when my sister was playing a game with depressing music.