We Shall Heal

Monday June 12th.

The young thirteen year old girl with a brilliant smile that used to be my roommate took her life today. I was in the room. I should've done something. They tell me it's not my fault but it is. I know it is. Why did I have to take that nap today? If I were awake I could've talked to her like we do every night and maybe I could have stopped her. But I slept and I didn't.

Dear Zoe,

You have left me in a bad state right now. I'm so shaken. I'm so sad Zoe. Cause you were beautiful to me. I wish, I really just wish you would have known that. I wish the world wouldn't have screwed you the way it had me. Because you are special and sweet and so innocent. You deserve the absolute best. I'm so mad at the world, at your bullies, at your friends, at your parents and at myself for making you feel so worthless and ugly. You weren't ugly. You were the ray of sunlight in this darkness, the warmth in this cold room and Gosh I miss you already.

Your bed is still intact. I demanded they leave everything the way it was. I'm still thinking that your walk in through the door, this sickly thin teenager with this brilliant smile and this heartfelt laughter and you'll be holding a butterfly or some bird and tell me that you saved it and tell me some scientific facts about the specie, which quite honestly darling, is of no use to me. But the door isn't opening and you won't come back.

I'm so sad Zoe. I'm in pain. You and I were never accepted by society and it's systems of life. You were fat and I was crazy, but I thought we were above that. I thought we were conquerors. I thought we were renegades. Weren't we Zoe? Weren't we?