Dear Adam,
There was more notes and things written on my locker. People called me a killer, a murderer, a slut, a whore. The boy wasn't there to help me clean it off today.
I have to constantly remind me that you told me in your letter that it wasn't my fault. It's just hard, because I still take the blame. If I just held on to you a little longer, you would still be here, smiling and laughing and taking me on adventures. Our tree house would still be up, and we would be snuggling in it. But I can't take what I did back, no matter how much I want to.
I wish I didn't leave. I wish you hadn't been so selfish. I wish you would've tried harder. I wish is wasn't feeling so guilty.
I'm sorry,
Bailey
YOU ARE READING
Dear Adam, (#2 in series)
Teen FictionIn which an unfixable girl writes to a dead boy. "You were a hurricane ," {Sequel to "Dear Bailey,"} WARNING: story may be a trigger
