She Who Is Alone

The First Letter

I sit in my hospital bed holding the book Helen gave my. I have decided that I will write in it, I might as well. I decide to write letters to my little sister, Corabelle. Our parents loved our crazy names, they wanted us to be 'unique'. I almost laugh at the thought of my parents lecturing me about my name. I miss them so very much it's like a stab to my heart to think they all abandoned me. I can picture us sitting around the breakfast table; Cora's long dark loose curls pushed out of her face with her gold sparkly headband she loves and her gold knit dress that sways around her knees as she sits in her chair swinging her legs, mom who looked beautifully put together in her white dress that brought out the pink in her cheeks and her hair pinned up in a simple bun and dad making pancakes in his black dress pants and white dress shirt. They all always had such easy smiles.

Cora,

My baby sister, enjoy being 6 because soon the real world will snatch away your care free ways. I am so deeply sorry for what I must of put you and mommy and daddy through. I just felt so out of control. I miss all of you like crazy, I can still see your big sparkly blue eye smiling at me as you faithfully woke me up every morning. I know I always said that I was 15, too old to be coddled, but truth is I need you all more than I'd like to admit.

I am staying at the hospital and my nurse Katie is overly perky, but my psychologist seems nice. She gave my the book that I am writing my letters to you in. It is dull and boring here. I probably look like a mess, I've never been pretty, but not this bad. You are the pretty one, you can bat your eyes and can get anything.

I was told that the cuts in my arms will leave scars and that the pills I took nearly killed me. I am also told that I am 30 pounds under the weight I should be. Doctors say I am lucky because only little damage was done to my stomach lining. Lucky me... now I am under constant surveillance.

Love, Sola

I read over my letter to Cora. Tears begin to run down my cheeks, I decided that I better go to the bathroom, I do not want Katie to see me cry. I make a beeline to the bathroom dragging the IV behind me. I shut and lock the door than turn and accidentally face the mirror. My ugly reflection stares back at me. My dark straight hair falling over my face and down my back, my cold gray eyes stare lifelessly and my skin looks an unhealthy pale. I look lifeless and alone. Why am I not pretty like mom or Cora? They both have pretty curls, why do I have dull straight hair? Tears race down my face faster and I sink down against the wall, so that I wont be able to see that hopeless girl staring back at me.