Dear Lizzie,
My mother found my stash of spit-out pills. She watches me take them now, then makes me open my mouth so she can check that I've swallowed them.
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Dear Lizzie
NouvellesDear Lizzie, Everyone says you’re gone. But you can’t be—you’re Lizzie. You just can’t. But you really are, aren’t you? // letters written by a girl who just wants her best friend back
