"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’m missing you like crazy again and this isn’t good at all. They made me pray again, mom and our little brother. I hate doing it. I hate praying. I hate religion. And even though I’m still a little religious, I kinda hate God for making it be this way. He could’ve given you a better ending. He could’ve given us all a better ending, but no. We’re left with this grief and suffering. I miss you everyday, but I learn how to ignore the pain of missing you. But at times like this, I feel like I wanna die. I’m relieving every terrible moment of my life. I wanna write about it, but my hands end up shaking and unable to do anything else. My heart begins to have no desire to do anything and I just feel like one big failure. I hate feeling this way you know? I just keep thinking about suicide. But other people tell me that these problems are not worth killing myself for. So does that mean I mean nothing at all? I’m just worthless am I? Then I guess it’ll be alright then? Since no one cares at all? I want to be with you and that’s what bothers me. I’m still so mad at you. I’m so angry that I wish you were never apart of my life at all. If I had amnesia and I forgot everything else except for the fact that I want to start over, I would do everything right. I wouldn’t be missing you, I would forget you ever existed, I wouldn’t have all this anxiety, and I would finally be happy. That would mean the world to me. Anyway… I’m gonna end it here. I’ve just describe what I’m feeling right now. The rest is excruciating anxiety.