Wilma how many times can someone say they're okay when they are slowly dying on the inside? I don't know how many more times I can say it. It rips me apart inside every time I lie to you. It hurts me so bad to see your trusting eyes looking up at me. As of right now these notes are piling up in my drawer. I am not going to dig up the shoebox until the last second. I wish I could tell you I might be able to live, but I cannot. I love you so much. I will treat each of these notes as my last. I love you so much, I just want you to know this.
My eyes filled with tears. I pushed my fist into my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I open the next note.
YOU ARE READING
The Funeral
Teen FictionMy brother committed suicide. At his funeral I didn't cry, I even left early. I did this because my brother already had a funeral. And he was there for it, and he was alive. He was holding my hand. We buried an empty shoe box, it symbolized his...
