Dear Adam, (#2 in series)

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Dear Adam,

My mom doesn't care, she ignores me and pretends I'm not here. All the photos with me in them were taken down. All memories of my artwork or keepsakes around the house have been thrown out.

My brother is a little better. He at least looks at me, and sometimes he helps me shred the hate mail. Other then that he pretends I don't exist.

I don't contact my dad. He has made it clear he hates me. I hate him too, but there is still this very small part of me that still wants him to accept me.

My friends don't even talk to me anymore. All I have is Sawyer.

My favorite teacher, Mr.Freddly, has stopped giving me websites to share my photography on. He only gives me sad stares filled with pity.

I don't feel the pain until it's 3am in the morning and I have that nightmare about you. That's when it hits and I'm hunched over the toliet vomiting, clucking my chest trying to get it out. It inevitable to make it go away. And I'm sobbing, the loud, snotty, mascara ruining, wailing type.

Then it all stops. And it's quiet.

That's when I sit in bed, with my headphones in, sad music filling my ears.

Adam♡

I miss you.

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It's the same thing everytime.

That's when I start to think about it, about dying.

I come up with so many ways out, from tying rope around my neck to running out into the middle of the highway.

I have my suicide note written. It's been rewritten more then one hundred times but I've finally perfected it.

I want to meet you soon.

Confused,
Bailey.