"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

You left the world almost three years ago. It doesn’t seem real. I remember your smile, your love for sweet food (diabetic), and your undying love for the Cincinnati Reds. You would always say, “Goodnight, love you.” Then you left. You were sick. They said that your were going to die. I didn’t believe them, I thought that you would pull through. You didn’t. You died, alone, in a nursing home. You died with strangers, when you should have died with your family. I remember being extremely angry at my brother, because he said, “He was already dead to me.” You should never say that. Never. I miss you. I wish you were here. I wish I could see your smile, and hear your laugh one last time. But, I never will. Ever since your death, I have never been the same. You were a light in the everlasting darkness. I wish I could say goodbye, just one last time. But, I won’t be able to. They say that I will be okay. I don’t think I am ever going to. I love you