"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 don’t know if there’s an afterlife, but I like to think so. If there’s not, maybe there’s a wormhole and your watching me from an alternate universe? I like to take comfort in the thought that there’s a universe or timeline where you’re not dead. Maybe your dad wasn’t a garbage human being in that world or maybe you chose to stay with us instead of move in with him… All I know is that I wish we could’ve had a happier ending.

If you’ve been watching over me, I know you’ve seen my struggles. After you and Dad left me with Mom when you both passed, I took to some unhealthy habits and projected my hurt on stupid little events to avoid admitting that the real reason I hurt was because you were gone. I know we were never really close when I was just your bratty, do-no-wrong (even when I did) baby sister, but I like to think that there would’ve been a time where we could’ve been more like me and our older sisters where everything is a shared burden or happy event. We’ve bonded even more since you left us and I just wish we could’ve bonded before you left.

I’m sure you’ve seen my hurt since you left and mom’s lack of a reaction and then her passing to join you and Dad. I went from self-harming to better to rock bottom in a few short years. I know you’re probably rolling in your grave knowing the stupid things I’ve done in the name of Wonderland- as I like to call the world where my struggles and pain don’t exist. I know you saw the CJ disaster and the failed engagement with a slightly older man and the three or four car accidents I’ve been in. Apparently, I can’t decide whether I want to exist or not and the universe is struggling to decide whether I should or not.

Even as I write this, I can’t hold myself together. Something about thinking of you and all I missed out on learning about you just rips open a fresh wound. I’ve written about you so many times and shared my thoughts of you with so many people, but I still don’t seem to get any closure… maybe it’s because I never got to talk to you about Mom and Dad’s drug problem or all my love life drama or anything about you… the more I think about you, the more I realize that I don’t know anything about you… You’re my big sister and the closest in age to me and all I know is that you listened to Big and Rich and HIM and read Phantom of the Opera. I don’t know anything about you as a person… I don’t know your personality or what you wanted to do for a career or anything else…

The main thing I’ve wanted to know is why you did it. Our sisters don’t remember what you wrote and they don’t have the note… All I know is that you got tired of feeling like nowhere was meant for you and so you decided to just stop trying to find somewhere to be. Was it because of how your dad treated you? Was it because you were depressed? Did you think that we’d be happier without you?

I know you can’t answer me, but I wish you could. After all this time, all I want is answers. If I can’t have you back, I at least want to know why you’re gone. Maybe one of these nights when I go explore other places to the sound of Kid Cudi, you can guide me to some version of you and explain why you left or what I’m supposed to do now.

I can’t say that I ever believed in God and I only just realized that I believe in the multiverse and all that, but I’ve always believed in you. Even when I was angry with you or failed to talk to you like I should have, I still believed in you like a Christian believes in God because what else was I supposed to do? You were the only straightforward thing in my life before you left for Florida. Maybe someday you’ll give me a sign or come visit and I can finally breathe and start to let it all go.