“The letter laid untouched on her desk, it had a crease, marked of dust.” It had been a month; I wished I had seen the signs. If only I could go back and have been there for her, perhaps even seen that she was hurting, scared, and feeling alone. He did not dare open the letter marked with her handwriting. We were all she had left, in the world; He was continuously thinking, he would say aloud if only He had gotten home sooner. “IF ONLY I HAD PICKED UP THE DAMN PHONE THAT DAY, SHE CRYED OUT FOR HELP AND I WAS JUST TO BUSY TO BE THERE?!” I said, as I cried out.  Hoping no one heard. She never deserved to feel like the world was against her, as if I was against her. I wanted so badly to know why she chose to kill herself, why she chose to end it instead of talking to me, but he knew if we read that letter we could never come back from it. It would be as though she truly was gone. After a brief discussion with him, one question remained in mind “am I ready and brave enough to see and read the truth?”

In Group Therapy for Grieving Parents…  

Last night he woke up screaming, he had dreamt of my sister and him. It was the first time she ever got on a bike she was so happy, so full of life.  “DADDY HURRY!” She said with a bright smile on her face. That smile always, made him want to smile. She had gotten on her bike while he held the back of the seat. She was all giggles, she started to pedal; “Daddy you’re holding me right?” She said with a worried tone. “Yes, Lily I have a handle.” Nevertheless, by this time he had already released his hold on the bike. She pedaled away further, until he tired yelling out for her and she could no longer hear him. “LILY COME BACK.” However, it was too late she was gone. All he could hear was, where were you?! Echoing in my head. Until he woke up, and nothing but a cold sweat that down my back was all that remained.

I could not take this aching sense of guilt, as if I was the one who pushed her, to her end. If I had not opened the letter then, it would have felt as though the guilt would have crush me where I stood then. However, the blame he put on himself, was not as strong as the feeling of fear to have read his daughters last words… I would have had to admit that he was not there for her when she needed him… I could see the stain marks of her tears on the paper… I heard her voice cracking in my head as she reads the words she wrote… he was not ready to hear how hard it was for her, not brave enough. So scared she will say he was responsible for her death, because I felt it in my heart that he was.  However, I knew she was waiting for us to listen, to understand her and her decisions. We had sat down on her bed for the last time and just stared at everything that we would be losing that day. I stepped to the desk, took the letter in hand and read the heartbreakingly sweet goodbye from our Lily.

Hello…,

I am sorry if I have caused you any sort pain; I know I have taken my life and time has passed. When during this while, as then, while I knew it would be a while until you had gotten your courage to read this letter, awhile it took me a while to have confidence to write this as well. I know there would be nothing I could ever say to make what I did right. Nevertheless, I have to tell you why I in my end, decided, to not ask for help or seek it. I had been mentally distressed for a long time and could not help but think that on a drawing or a given description of what I was going through it could have looked or had been said to represent a puzzle broken down piece by piece. I would go to someone and try to speak my mind and be let down, and then I would feel small. As if I never mattered to anyone in the world, I would be so depressed I felt like I would never make Jehovah or You proud, I felt like nothing. I compared myself to others as though I was a piece of meat. I would look at my friends and think, how I was never going to get anything looking this way. Others even went as far as tell me too just go kill my ugly self, “you’ll be alone forever anyway,” I could not take it anymore. The last thing that pushed me off the edge is when they started calling me fatty, and porky, I felt too belittled to fight back. They would say why don’t you go stuff your face instead of pretending as if you actually have brains. To the why I never asked for help when things got worse was because when it had all started I reached out for help and they just said, “That would never happen at west will high.” They just turned their backs on me.

That’s the whole story of why I did what I did, I’m sorry dad, and Sister this was never any of your faults you loved me endlessly, you made me feel like I could accomplish everything I ever dreamed.

                                   “You Were My Heroes, I Will Love You Forever”

                                  Your daughter/sister who awaits you at the crossroads

           My daughter wrote these last words to me and I will get justice for her. I Love You Too Lily… Forever…