There are ways of dying that do not end with a funeral. Types of deaths you can't see, feel or smell. Because death, just like love, has a mind of its own and some things can't be prevented.
What started as an innocent high school quest in search o...
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A month into my ninety-day rehab at Cornerstone of Recovery, I get a letter from Cassidy.
A written letter in an envelope because as the rehab policy goes, 'cell phones deviate focus and only add to the distractions and temptations', which is why they aren't allowed. I've never been one to spend excessive time on social media but I knew that even without the rehab policy in place, I wouldn't be able to escape seeing things that could trigger me further—things from back home—and that's the last thing I wanted.
I wanted to cut myself away from everything during my stay here, to have a chance at a redo. A chance at finding out who I am and what I enjoy, what makes me me; not who I'm supposed to be based on other people's ideas and opinions.
I've been calling home here and there, mostly talking to Mom and Rose and the twins but I haven't asked them about any of my friends or whether Rose already talked to Mom about the fact that uncle Carlos is her biological father.
I haven't asked about Aspen.
When I'm on the phone with either of them, we talk about neutral things, or happy things. We don't go into the territories of bad memories and piled-up disappointments and it almost feels as if we were better at being a semi-functioning family from a distance. With several states separating us.
The letter from Cassidy is the first and only thing I've gotten in a month, and it's already open when I receive it from one of the staff members during an evening check-up. If I were anywhere else, I'd be mad already because I can't stand people snooping around my private matters but I understand it is a necessary precaution. For all they know, I could be sending coded inquiries regarding getting some drugs back and forth.
I'm kind of wishing that was the case once I start with the letter because I'm pretty sure those words wouldn't be able to throw me off nearly as much as this right here.
Hi!
Well, this is awkward. Sorry. I didn't know what else to start with. So. . . hi it is. How are you? How is it going in Michigan?(That's where you are, right? I talked to your Mom and that's what she told meat least, so I hope I'm not making a fool out of myself now by accidentally mixing it up???). Not that it matters. I just wanted to write you something so you wouldn't feel like no one cares because I know the others couldn't really give less of a fuck so. . . Not that that matters, either. I should probably just get to the point and tell you the real reason why I'm writing this but it seems way harder to do now than it did before, when I wasn't holding a pen above a blank sheet of paper. Things are always easier in theory. Real life sucks. First, I want you to know I didn't want to do this. Not this way, at least, and part of me still doesn't want to because I don't want you to get mad at me for telling you but I think you should know. You definitely should know. So, I'm okay with taking the risk of you getting mad at me but please, if I can ask you for anything, don't hate me for being the one to tell you. I couldn't handle knowing you hate me for being honest with you, when the people that should've been weren't. You might already have your suspicions, (and please don't freak out) but Roger's not a good person and I'm not talking about all the other stuff now that you already know about. I'm talking about him taking his anger out on your sister, anytime she's unfortunate enough to be in his way. I'm talking about her letting him get away with it, forgetting about it and even protecting him whenever I tried to bring up the topic with her after I found out. I'm talking about Aspen knowing about it the whole time and pretending she didn't. That's pretty fucked up, I know. I don't know what her reasons were but honestly, what good reason could there be for not trying to stop the abuse you clearly know has been going on this whole time? What good reason could there be for not telling you about it? It's your sister, for God's sake! Sorry. It's just. . . thinking about it makes my blood boil. I hate that this is happening and I don't know how to fix it for you while you're away. I wish you were here. Everything is just better when you're here. I miss you. Always. Love, Cass.
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a/n: a short but very important chapter. what do you think about Collin finally finding out this way? did Cassidy do the right thing? or did she do it because of her own selfish reasons that had nothing to do with the real issue here?
