For pearl.

Letter 1

Dear Pearl Aoire,
I'm sorry for not being there for you when you really needed it. I wish that we could have another chance, but I guess it's too late now.

Last week I was looking at the stars, thinking about how you could see them too but at a different place and a different time. Now as I look up at the sky I know that you are never going to see it again. But wherever you are right now, in another dimension or even heaven - if it exists, I hope that you're happy.

Now you will never have to struggle with the bad connection in your mum's apartment because you did online school. You won't have to put on tons of make up to hide your bruises when you go out. You will never have to go to places by yourself because you don't have anyone to go with. At least you won't have to battle every day of your life, because all the little things won't matter anymore.

Honestly, you deserved a better life. Depression is a bitch and having to deal with that, on top of your mum and being in a country with a language that you don't speak, is something that no one deserves.
You were amazing, even though life was so horrible to you, somehow you always managed to push through and ignore it. I don't know how you did it and it always amazes me when I think about how far you got, even in the little time that you had on this planet. You were so far ahead of everyone that you ended up doing a load of early GCSE's. I remember you stressing about the art GCSE. You were so worried but you ended up getting a B+. Although that did upset you, it's amazing and you were so successful. You could have gotten so far in in life. Trust me on this one - your mum won't get away with this. She is a horrible horrible person and she is going to rot in a jail cell. You did not deserve to die at this age. When you had come back to England we could have met up again and we could have helped each other.

You died on Friday the 17th of October in 2015. At 1:46 In the time of the country that you moved to. I feel bad because I can't remember which country. Maybe it was Germany. Anyway... When your mum stabbed you, she hit an artery. You were in a coma for five days, from Sunday to Friday. No matter what the doctors tried that night, nothing worked. At 1:45 the blood supply cut from your brain and the rest of your body. A minute later you died. They tried to fix you but it was too late. Your brain cells were dying as they had no oxygen and you couldn't breathe. Your aunt flew over as soon as she found out you were in a coma. She was the one who told me about everything that happened.

You are not going to have a funeral as most of your family are in Britain and so your body will be buried in a graveyard twenty minutes away from the hospital. You know the one near your house? You told me that you used to go there to draw the trees. It was always empty. Silent. You liked it there because no one disturbed you. It was so peaceful. Now you can be there for the rest of eternity.
I found out about your death at five in the morning, so technically the night that you died.

Your aunt texted me before she deactivated your account on instagram. The messages were all deleted but I had already written down the details. Now there isn't any trace of you anywhere. Your mum's apartment is already being sold off and your social media is gone. Now all that is left are memories. Mine, your mum's, your aunt's and the rest of your family. The people that you have seen randomly on the street. They will remember the girl with blue hair. Walking down the street or in a shop.

I have lots of memories of my time with you. Basically all good. Like how your favourite number is six because of the illuminati. That time we went to Starbucks and you said your name was broccoli. So you got a latte with broccoli written on the side. That was so funny. Also when we went to the park and we drew the same bench except yours was so much better than mine. Then afterwards we carved our names into it with your penknife. I wonder where that is now. And when You invited me to that party that was slightly crazy. I never went but you said it was fun. People were getting drunk while you were sipping water and saying that it was vodka if anyone asked you. I'm going to use that trick when I'm older. That and the apple juice instead of beer thing. When I left my house for an hour to "take photos". I did take a few but we were just talking and laughing. The time when the grass was wet but we laid down hand in hand and watched the sunset.

So many good memories. But still not enough to block out the worst of the bad. I'm going to put a couple here just to remember them. One was the time when I came to your house early in the morning - twelve is early. Your mum had gone to a friends house for the day and I had roughly known your address. You hadn't put any make up on yet because you weren't going to see anyone. I came in and saw the bruises on your face. I remember you crying on my shoulder. I felt so helpless because there was nothing I could do to make it better. The other one is the only other bad memory I'm going to write. This one happened a couple of weeks ago...
You told me about your scars. Why they were there. Who they were from. I felt so bad after that. You were in a different part of the world. I couldn't just go and hug you. I'm trying my best to block that one out.

I want to say that this letter wasn't written to make anyone sad. It was created because I miss you. I will always miss you that's because I love you. In a friend way. Us breaking up was for the best. Even though I didn't see that at the time it occurred. Just because I need to write this again - You will never be forgotten. And I wish that you were still here. Every time I see something illuminati or even just generally tumblr related, I will think of you. Your smile. How we used to talk about organisations like the illuminati taking over the world.
And how I miss you.