run.

Dear sister,

Dear sister,

It's been a year since you left. I miss you. Mom thought writing this letter might help me, and she promised to send it to you. I hope you get it.

Everyone has been different since you ran. Your best friend, Joy, didn't come to school after she found out. When she finally did, she looked bad. Her hair was a mess, her face clear of makeup......she looked tired. I tried to help her, council her, and she admitted she wanted to go after you. I stopped her, of course. You would of thanked me.
Your boyfriend took it worse then Joy did. He switched schools, or so his mom said. I know she's lying. I bet he ran after you.

People have been different here, quieter. No one can look me in the eye anymore, not even mom and dad.
They're not doing well, the parents. They stay up, after they think i've gone to bed. They sit in silence at the kitchen table, staring at a picture of you. They do it every night.

They told me, today. They told me why you left. I always knew something was wrong, deep down. They told me that you didn't run away, and they told me why they dislike sharp objects.

I visited you today. I wonder if you saw me, standing over the slab of rock in the ground, how I placed a rose on your grave. I wondered if you ever thought of me, when you committed suicide, or maybe I WAS why you did......

I guess I need to end this letter, but how should I? I know so much more now than I did when starting this, and I realize the address is wrong. If I were to rewrite it, this is what I would say:

Dear Mother,
Grandma told me what happened to you, when you were only thirteen. I know why you always looked at me with affection, why you always policed me, why grandma and grandpa did nothing about it. I know now how hard it must of been, to watch your daughter think of you as a sister. To me, you will always be my sister, even through death.

I love you.