"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

I can’t remember your voice. Why can’t I remember your voice? Why can’t I remember your stories and jokes? My memories of you, they are slipping away like the mist off of the mountains. You were the only one I had besides Skye. It has been 9 long years as of June 12th. I cant comprehend that. Each year flies by faster and faster. I was 8 when you died. I am so jealous that Skye has more memories of you because she was older. I only remember the sick years. The two last before cancer stole you from us.
I just graduated high school. You always said you would be there, but I know it isn’t your fault that you are not. And in February Skye got married. She opted to walk down the aisle alone because you were not there to give her away.
I wish I could have experienced a normal childhood, one with a mother and a living father and no abusive uncles or loving grandparents. All of these people I have been living with since your death. Bouncing around from family member to family member like a ping pong ball.
I know everything I have experienced has made me who I am but I am draining of the strength it takes to make it through. Each day is harder and harder to live through normally. I always feel like I am watching life through a thick glass window. Like I am not part of life but more a spectator to it.
I will continue to love you endlessly and try to hold on to every memory I have left, gripping as tightly as I can. I promise.