Dear Michael,
I'm sorry. It's been almost 2 months since I've written. I've just been so busy lately. You haven't been here, and neither has Georgia.
She died two weeks ago. She took her own life because she wanted to be with her boyfriend. I'm not mad at her. I want to be with mine too.
They force me to take the meds. Well, they tried. They put it in my food. I figured it out when I didn't see you that night. I can't trust anything here anymore. I haven't eaten in four days. I need to be able to see you.
I want to see you. The actual you. I don't want to see the you that I have imagined for almost a year. I want the real you.
The only thing keeping me here is a boy named Ashton. His body is more scared than mine. And that's hard to do.
He told me he wouldn't kill himself if I didn't. I don't want him to die. I can't cause him to die too. But god, I want to die. I really, really want to die.
Love,
Elora
