Unaddressed Letters

Unaddressed Letters Chapter 1

Dear Mommy and Daddy, I’m not a kid anymore, why would I call them mommy and daddy. Mother and Father. Perfect, more formal, but why would they want to read this anyway, so scratch that. Dear Friends, what friends am I talking about here? I guess I only have Ly and Sara. Dear Ly and Sara, that’s a better start.

I walked down the stairs of the huge mansion. I hated living in the largest house in town, drawing attention in such a small Arizona city. Stepping outside into the humid air, I almost tripped over the flowerpot that my little sister was playing with. I side-stepped the flowerpot, making my way down the large driveway onto the street. Staring out at the beautiful sunset scene in front of me, I lifted the camera from around my neck, pointing it directly at the reflection off of the trees. I heard the soft ‘click’ the camera was making as it took the series of pictures. The camera was now angled toward the colors beneath the sun when a person jumped into the shots.

I didn’t flinch away as this is an everyday thing to have Lyle interrupting my photography shoot. He moved away and let me continue. I bent down onto my knees, getting full shots of the sky. Crawling over to the front garden, I took pictures of the flowers in full bloom, seeming to be smiling toward the camera. I know I may not be as beautiful as the flowers I take pictures of, but I still am beautiful, in my own way. I stopped there, why would I lie to myself or anyone reading it? I know I’m not beautiful, and that’s not just society talking, that’s me. Perfect. I can’t stand the sight of me. No, it just doesn’t sound right. I repulse myself; I can’t even stand looking in the mirror without grabbing my razor and digging it into my skin, leaving large slitted wrists. Better. I was pulled away from those thoughts when I felt a foot hitting against my back, hard.

I looked up, spotting Sara standing beside Lyle, his arm on her lower back, her head resting against his shoulder. You have fun. That sounds a little too bright. I see the way you look at each other; I know you’re in love even though you’ve only been dating for a month. I see their eyes connect, their lips soon to follow. What you have is love, something I’ll never be able to grasp. No. I’ll never be able to put my hands on. Why would anyone want me? Sara, you’re beautiful, Ly, you’re handsome, you were made for each other, I was made for this. I looked down into the flowers, a tear dripping down my cheek, plopping onto the tulip in front of me. I stood up, running back up the driveway, unnoticed by my best friends since they were so interested in their lip locking.

I fell helplessly onto my bed, burying my head into the feather-stuffed pillow. The tears brimmed over my eyes. I’m broken. That’s too vague, I don’t know what’s happened to me, I used to love myself, love life in general, now that’s gone, and I don’t know where I’m going. I heard stomping, running down the hallway. Pounding was sounding at my door; I stayed silent, the other side making a ruckus. The door tumbled open, almost flying off of the hinges. I lifted my head, Ly and Sara’s eyes boring into mine.

Dear Ly and Sara,

You don’t know this yet, but I hate my life. I know I’m not beautiful, and that’s not just society talking, that’s me. I repulse myself; I can’t even stand looking in the mirror without grabbing my razor and digging it into my skin, leaving large slitted wrists. I hate it; I wish I could feel pretty even just for a day, is that too much to ask? I see the way you look at each other; I know you’re in love even though you’ve only been dating for a month. What you have is love, something I’ll never be able to put my hands on. Why would anyone want me? Sara, you’re beautiful, Ly, you’re handsome, you were made for each other, I was made for this. I don’t know what’s happened to me, I used to love myself, love life in general, now that’s gone, and I don’t know where I’m going. Just please, forget me, I’m not worth it. I need help though; try to see through my fake smile please.

I don’t believe in love so, um,

With care,

Lindsy