In the aftermath of her twin sister's tragic death, Reagan Sinclair finds herself in a never-ending battle against paralyzing panic attacks and drowning in grief. Desperate to just survive each day, Reagan's world is turned upside down when Paris un...
Erica: Reagan, I'll send you a list of journaling prompts you can write about in case you have trouble starting.
Reagan: Okay. Thank you.
12th January
Dear Robin,
I shouldn't be writing this letter in class, but good old Mr. Henry's voice is like a lullaby from the depths of boredom and I need the distraction to keep me from napping face-first into my notebook, but I digress. It feels strange to write your name down on paper. I'm always saying it in my head, but it's been so long since I've written it down or said it out loud. It feels strange addressing these letters to you, Robin because I know that I'm never going to get one back. It feels final.
Erica-bless her heart- she's my mind whisperer by the way sent me a list of journaling prompts I can write about if I have trouble starting, and I think I'll follow along with them. Today's prompt: What would make you happy right now?
Erica's always asking me this question, and my answer is always the same but sure let's do this dance again. I'll be happy when his body is stuffed into a suitcase, too. I'm imagining it right now, thinking about how I'd feel if it happened. And although I think you'd get the justice you deserve, it doesn't turn this grim party into a fiesta. It doesn't bring you back. You're still not here. You're still dead. What would make me happy right now is having you here with me. Making me laugh, angering me, crawling into my bed because you're always cold, and you want to steal my body heat. What would make me happy is hearing you confidently scream the wrong lyrics from all the songs I play when it's my turn to drive Damon and making me stop every fifty minutes because you need to pee again.
I can't tell you how endlessly I think about you, Robin. I miss you so unfathomably, and I don't know how to handle it. No one ever showed me how. No one teaches you how to deal with grief. They don't sit you down and tell you that one day your twin sister is going to die, and when that happens, this is what you need to do. There isn't a handbook to deal with this stuff. Chapter 1: When Your Sister Kicks The Bucket. It feels so overwhelming, like missing you is all that I am. I'm lost without you, Roe. You died, and my life stopped too. We've spent almost every waking moment together since the day we were born, and I don't know who I am in the world without you, and honestly? I'm terrified of finding out. What would make me happy, Robin is having youback.
Love, Reagan
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I'M FIGHTING A HEADACHE on my way back to the apartment, and it only intensifies when I see Paris sitting on the floor next to my door, fiddling with his phone. Why isn't he in…. shit!
“You don't have a key. I'm so sorry!” I rush over to where he's sitting, and he shakes his head as he stands. “Don't worry about it, love,” he reassures me, bending to pick up two grocery bags from the floor. I feel terrible anyway. It's a physical thing. I feel it sitting heavy on my chest. “I'm such a fucking idiot. How long have you been sitting out here? I'm so sorry. I'll get you a key tomorrow,” I ramble, trying to open the door as quickly as I can, but my hands are shaking so badly the key drops. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, holding it there in my lungs and fighting the need to cry. Today it feels like all those suppressed emotions are pushing at my throat, ready to erupt at the drop of a hat. When I open my eyes again, Paris has the keys in his hands. He holds them out to me with an odd expression on his face, like he's trying to figure out what's wrong with me.
