June 28th, 2011
Dear Isadora,
I did a terrible thing today and I regret it so much... Oh God, it hurts so badly...
I'm so sorry, Dory... I'm so sorry...
I went into your room for your one-month death anniversary and I decided to go through your things...
I found a box filled with razor blades. I didn't know what to do with them... But I was in a disoriented state and I grabbed one and rushed to the bathroom and locked it.
I was panicking and crying and just... An emotional mess. It's been a month since I been in that room and I found blades. I never knew you had harmed yourself, Dory...
I wasn't thinking, I wasn't... I glided the blade against my arm until the skin ripped apart and I was bleeding...
I-I cut myself for the first time... It hurt so badly and I didn't know what to do...
I hid in the bathroom for the entire bleeding process... I don't know why I didn't manually stop the bleeding but I wasn't thinking straight I was just focused on the pain.
I never experienced anything like that... It just felt so horrible...
But at that moment... I- How do I explain this? The feeling was addictive and I went for another cut and another... until there were 6 cuts on my arm...
I was overwhelmed with pain... I couldn't stop... I don't know why I couldn't... I just wasn't able to...
Here I was, a pathetic fourteen-year-old maniac, on the cold tiled floor with a blade in between my fingers, my arm was coated in red liquid... The white tiled floor was stained with red...
The pain got more excruciating and it was until 2 minutes later that I passed out from the loss of blood.
I'm surprised I hadn't died from that moment... But 3 hours later I awoke to the blood stop but my entire arm and the entire floor were covered in blood.
I don't know how much blood I lost that day but all I know is that I felt way too dizzy for my liking...
I'm so sorry I'm such a fool...
Such a disappointment...
I don't know what's wrong with me...
I wish you were here, Dory...
You'd make things better...
So much better...
YOU ARE READING
Dear Isadora
Short StoryAfter the suicide of 16-year-old Isadora Torres, 14-year-old Anthony writes letters to his deceased sister about his life. A way of coping with loss, perhaps? How will Anthony live his life without his older sister by his side? --- WARNING: THIS STO...