Dear Neveah,

04. Dear Neveah

Dear Neveah,

Your funeral was peaceful. Just as you would've wanted it to be but only one question comes to my mind whenever I think about it. Why? Why'd you choose to leave us when you had a better choice of being with Peyton, the twins and even me. I thought we had good times or it wasn't because of me. My mind wouldn't think of anything close to your reason and even if there was, wasn't it negotiable?

Wasn't it?

We've been friends for long and I regret keeping some things from you. I didn't want you to feel pity for me so I'd tell you now.

Remember the day you met me in the library in fifth grade when I was crying? That was when my parents divorced. It was hard knowing they didn't want each other anymore and I was scared they wouldn't want me too. They fought over who to keep me. They didn't want me. Why didn't I appear to your parents as even their last child or your twin or something? It's selfish, I know.

I overheard them arguing in their room because they couldn't decide who should keep me so my mum had no option than to agree. I felt unloved all that while till you showed up. Till you asked me to stop crying and be your friend. That still counts as one of the happiest days ever. When I wouldn't tell you why I was crying, you never asked me after a month, or even years and you never did even now because you knew it was a sore spot for me.

I thank you for the light you showed me and all the love, kindness and hot you showered me with. I'd have written a lifelong eulogy if given the chance but I couldn't speak because I was too shocked to even at your funeral. After all, you were gone. It weighed me down totally and had crushed me to the lowest point but what's the point of tears? I have to be strong like you.

You once said tears are not for the weak but the more I cry, the more I feel weak and more vulnerable like I can't help myself.

I have to be strong for your mum, Peyton and the twins, Bria and Bev, for all those who love you and believed in you. I have to be strong first so they can be strong. I learnt that from you too. You need to be strong for others to copy but you didn't add that it wasn't easy. Remind me to pinch you for it later.

My dad never came back on my birthday like you said, when someone loves you, they'll do hard things for you. Very hard and difficult things like coming to see my mum and me. So I guess it implies my dad never loved me. You didn't lie because you proved it yourself. You accepted me as your friend because you loved me. It was very difficult having a ' bipolar ' friend, I guess. Before we met, people used to call me bipolar, including Jackson. Jackson the jerkface. Do you remember the nickname Jackson the Jerkface? You formed it because you're so smart and he's a jerk too.

Not to make you angry but he was at your funeral. I know I should've kicked him out but the number one thing you love is peace and I wouldn't ruin it on your last time being with us, breathing or not.

My mum doesn't love me either. She doesn't particularly hate me as well, she's just there. I'm sure you never noticed how a pathetic excuse for a mother she is because she feigns sweetness whenever you come around and you're already a bubble of laughter, joy and hopes so you get along well. She's always at work six days straight from dawn to dusk so I barely see her. Business trips upon trips, projects and working from home. We've never had a together time before, except if we have to prove to someone we're a mother and daughter. Which is the only lie I lied to you. Pretence.

She would send a box of pizza to my room for us while we have our girl time. She is only sweet on those days when you're around.

I was fortunate to have her return on the day of your funeral only for her to leave the next day with her usual excuse of making it up to me. Your family is all I have now and I still wonder why you left me when you knew you were the only one I had. I practically live more than half of my life at your house because I don't to be reminded of the loneliness that awaits me back home.

So I guess as my punishment for being so selfish for having to want you to myself, I'll have to live in this house filled with loneliness knowing the only person I had has also left me.

Yours ever,
Alli.

I tear the page from my dairy and fold it into a neat rectangular shape, scribbling my name at the back of the sheet.

I roll out of bed and amble lazily to my large walk-in closet. I stand akimbo while my eyes rake the shoe rack searching for a box or anything to fill it with my letter. My eyes fall on the glittery pink shoebox at the bottom of the rack and I bend over to pick it up.

It was my birthday present from mum two years ago. A brand new pair of heels that was barely my size. She never lived with me, barely knew my shoe size, barely knew anything about me. I quickly take off the lid and eye the silver pair wishing it was just my size but no matter how much I tried it on, it never fit. It's of no use anyway.

I take out the pair of shoes carefully and throw it into the dustbin, a loud sound coming right after it. Not caring the price, after all, there are no emotions attached to it.

I put the letter inside the shoebox and put the lid on it.

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