"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

After we parted ways to our new schools, we still tried desperately to keep in touch. Our chats were usually about how we were both doing, but we were never on at the same time. When we lost contact, admittedly I didn’t think twice, but you were in the back of my mind and you’ll pop up whenever someone mentions “childhood”. When I got the news of your fight with an illness, I was devastated. You lost the fight. At that time, I had a relaxing month with school going so smoothly. It pained me to realise that while I was doodling in classes, you were slipping away to somewhere I’m not allowed to go yet. But I’ve moved on from grief, and learnt to treasure every moment with my friends. Try to smear them in my mind, remember every word said and the bumps of a laugh, take every photo like I’ll be looking at it someday, sometime, realising the people I was with are gone. This year, your death anniversary passed and I didn’t notice up until a week later. I was surprised considering how depressed I was about it last year. But now, I can even openly tell my friends why am I staring at a picture of this peculiar girl on this certain day. Thanks for the memories, I wish you well.