Letter 6

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Letter 6

Dear Brooke,

I loved everything about you. From your 'perfect' messy buns to your always lilac toe-nails, you were loved. I loved you more than anything in the world, and I had always wished that you were my older sister.

I was jealous that Paige got such an amazing older sister. I mean, Kenzie was great, but having an older sister would be perfect. I remember all those times you would come over for a sleepover and I would make Mom send Kenzie to a friend's house.

We always did each others nails, hair, took pictures, and played board games. We would do actual sister things that made me wish you could be my sister. I remember those nights when we would stay up 'till 4 AM playing Words With Friends and Draw Something.

We would make the craziest words and drawings and see who could come up with the craziest. It was perfect.

So when I heard in 7th grade that you had gotten accepted into NYU, I wanted to cry. My best friend was moving to New York. While my Mom and sister danced around happily, I wished I had accepted that Joffrey letter. Then we could've lived close together. But I knew Joffrey would never accept the girl who turned down a Joffrey scholarship.

After you told me you were excited to finally get away from Pittsburgh, I was hurt. You never said anything about missing anybody or anything, and I felt like you had never truly liked me. I was only 13 then, and never realized how little of a deal it was.

I didn't talk to you for a long time. You wanted to know what was wrong, but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to say, "You won't miss me," because I knew you would just laugh in my face and hug me. That was it. You would say, "Of course I would miss my little sister!"

I wish I could've spent those last couple weeks with you. I wish I could've said 'I love you' and never believed you didn't love me.

I hate Samantha Nicholson. I wish you had never ever became friends with her and let her drive you up to New York. Because now you're dead. Just a coffin, six feet under ground with ghostly white skin.

I stared up at the white ceiling. Brooke has just left for New York a few hours ago, and I already felt like there was an empty hole in my heart. I wanted to call her and say some encouraging words, or just text her, but she was sad with me. I had blocked her out for weeks.

I gripped my pillow tightly to my chest and grabbed the TV remote. I clicked the off button, silencing Phoebe's chirpy voice. I hated Friends. I heard the home phone ringing downstairs. I sighed and stood up.

I quickly ran downstairs and grabbed the phone off it's charger. "Hello?" I asked. My voice sounded flat and plain. I heard a sniffle. "M-Maddie?" Paige asked. A sob escaped her throat. "Paige? What's wrong?!" I asked. "B-Brooke!" She sobbed. I bit the inside of my cheek. "I know, Paige. She's gone," I whispered. My voice cracked.

"No, Maddie," She sniffled. "Brooke got in a crash. She died instantly."

I felt my heart stop. My lungs felt like they were clogged, and tears immediately gathered in my eyes. "No!" I yelled. "No! You're lying! She's alive!" I screamed. "Maddie, honey," Mom came running downstairs. "Quiet d-"

"I'm not!" Paige sobbed. I dropped to the kitchen floor, the phone flying across the floor. "Brooke!" I yelled. Mom slowly picked up the phone. "Paige? Honey?" Mom asked. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath.

All I could think about was Brooke reading her favorite book (The Fault In Our Stars) as a car slammed into hers. The air bag would fly out, smacking her, as both of them screamed. Brooke's breath stopped, and she died.

Died.

Death was something I was always afraid of until I couldn't survive without you.

Love,

Maddie.

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