Letters

Chapter Four

It was Summer. Nothing to do, no one to see. My best friend was away with her Mum, and my other friends were busy. I wandered around my house, singing to myself. I had my music on shuffle, most of them cheesy girl songs.

There was a knock at the door, and as I looked through the peep hole in my door I saw a delivery man. I opened the front door and smiled, accepted the parcel, and went back inside.

I placed the small package on the table, and carried on listening to my music.

My tummy groaned, so I decided to have some lunch. I searched through the cupboards, but there was nothing to eat, so I dived to the bottom of my bag, found a 2 pound coin and some change, and put my shoes on to go to the shop.

As I turned the corner near the petrol station, I saw a woman with blonde hair go the other way. My eyes glued to her, but she turned around the corner, and I didn't see her again.

I felt sad. I thought it was Miss Collins. If it was, then I saw her yet I didn't even get to speak to her.

If it wasn't, it still reminded me of how much I missed her.

Once I was home, I checked my phone and my heart sank. I had a message from my friend, Katie, that Catherine was leaving the next day to live in Spain. I had been so busy drowning in my own thoughts that I forgot which day she was leaving. I presumed it was Saturday.

Why did this keep happening?

Why did I keep having to say goodbye to everyone I cared about or needed in my life.

Not just me, but my friends, too. They had known Catherine since they were 7, I knew this would be incredibly hard for them.

I took myself to my room, and just sat on my bed. Staring back at myself in the blurred reflection.

I was fed up of everything. Fed up of saying goodbye, fed up of worrying about so many different things, fed up of myself.

I took my phone from my pocket and flicked through the playlist of all the songs that reminded me of Catherine. I felt a cold tear trickle down my cheek, but I couldn't keep it inside anymore. I couldn't keep telling myself I was okay. I know there were others going through worse than me... A lot worse, but did that mean I couldn't be upset too? Did that mean I should've found it easy to cope? Because I was upset, and I didn't find it easy to cope.

I remember what I was feeling on the night I nearly had to say goodbye to my Dad. The night I thought I would walk out the hospital and never see him again. The night I thought he would die.

I had felt constantly sick. Sick of nerves. Anxiety. I started to feel that again. I could feel it inside me, I could feel it when I breathed, inside my tummy and in my throat.

Who could I tell about this? I knew Emma would understand, but she had so many problems of her own, telling her mine would only make things worse. Sometimes I wish she'd realise how much I care about her. She thought no one needed her, yet she means everything to me.

She was another one I was scared of losing. The thought of not having her in my life wasn't even bareable.

I needed an adult to talk to. But someone I could trust. I found it hard to trust people because everyone seemed to change or turn their back on me. The only person I would've considered talking to was Miss Collins, but she was gone.