"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder what has become of me. I often look into my eyes. They look as if they don’t belong to me. They stare so dull and empty into nothingness. I can hear them, when I’m alone. The voices. Blurred. As if through a wall. Sometimes, if I’m not careful, they pierce through. Tear down my walls and scream at me. They just call my name. Over and over again. They make me hate it. He reminds me too much of everything. Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder what I’ve become. Until I realize they’re screaming for me. Because I can’t scream anymore. Because I’m too afraid of anyone hearing me. That’s why they’re screaming for me. They are screaming for me at me. Because I’m not good enough. Because I don’t think I’m good enough. But why should I be?

Shortly after you wrote me this text you were found dead. Thank you for sticking it out for so long. Thank you for all these beautiful memorys. I love you. To me you were always enough. I feel sorry for not telling you soon enough. I love you. I really do. I want to hug you one last time.