Young Writers Society

Dear Sara,

I've told myself over and over again that you didn't deserve a single thought from me, much less a letter, but for some reason, I just couldn't stop myself. I tell myself to stop, to let this past by, but my hand keeps on spilling out guts on the pages. Because you don't deserve to walk away and expect a clean break like that.

I wish I never met you that day. I wish I would’ve forgotten that big sloppy grin you flashed me on the first day of second grade and walked the other way. Then, we would have never become best friends. We would never have had all those sleepovers, secrets and intwined dreams of our future. I would have never let you get close enough to hurt me. Instead of being the one standing infront of the gravestone, I'd just be a normal, curious girl who stood on the sidelines. Maybe it was because I had no one else to trust that time. With no friends and constantly drunk parents, I had nowhere left to run. So I guess I saw you as a raft, a single flicker of hope that could drag me away from everything else that could sting me.

Once you got past the walls I so carefully built around me, hell broke loose. I still remember that day; how could anyone forget? It was on tuesday night at exactly 11:23 pm. The rain was like tiny silver bullets slamming against my roof and windows so at first, I could hear the phone ring. On maybe the third or fourth ring, I finally walked over to the telephone. I picked up the receiver and twisted my finger around the curly, plastic cord and said hello. Do you know what they told me? Without any warning whatsoever, they aimed the gun right at my heart and pulled the trigger.

The told me you were dead. They told me you were fucking dead.

I didn't hear anything after that, just broken fragments of 'tragic accident' and 'slippery roads'. I could feel their concern seeping through the phone, but all my thoughts were concentrated around you. How could you do this to me? You were my best friend, my best friend. You meant the world to me. People come and go and I've even closed myself off from family, but never you because you were the one solid thing in my life. Then, you leave me alone to fend for myself in this harsh cold world...without a single goodbye. Why don't you just take a knife and stab me in the chest? At least then I'd know that there's a chance I can make the bleeding stop. But no, you chose to kill me from the inside. I started hating myself for letting you drive that night, consumed in anger, guilt and overwhelming angst. I couldn't sleep or eat or do anything without seeing you everywhere I go. Slowly, all the rawness formed into bitter resentment...towards you. You were the cause of all this, the reason why I have to carry such a deep scar in my past for the rest of my life.

I've been told thousands of times that it wasn't yours or my fault. Nonetheless, you're still the one who fled and I'm still the one abandoned.

The last time I saw you was just hours before I got that phone call. We were outside an ice cream parlour, licking off the melted parts of the popsicles when you realized just how late is was getting. Insisting that you had to go, I let you leave without a second thought. You smiled at me with your signature grin and told me you'll see me tomorrow. With that, you slung your floral backpack over your shoulder and walked the other way. Sara, it's been 465 days and I'm still waiting for tomorrow.



Lily



A/N: I guess I should've mentioned this before, but the overall mood I was going for was bitter. It's still pretty rough, but I edited it a little bit. Thanks for the reviews so far and more are always welcomed! )

"Sara, it's been 465 days, and I'm still waiting for tomorrow" I really like this line, although I'm not sure why. I guess it captures the length of time that has past so exactly. The speaker keeps waiting for tomorrow which signifies a better day, but it never comes. It's really heart-wrenching. I also like how, although Sara is the one who dies, the speaker was "shot" at. This is a really good emotional letter. I actually felt the speaker's pain while reading this. I think it would be great as part of a bigger novel about Sara and the speaker's relationship, I you wanted to continue it. The only thing I would suggest is expanding this letter to include what the speaker learned from the experience, if she learned anything important at all. Well, keep up the good work! I hope you win:)

Ah. May. Zing.
1) You utilized the second person voice very well and did a good job of making it very effective
2) You really capture the cliche irrational anger but also find a way to make it your own
3) You really reached me emotionally with this
4) That last line is killer

Things to fix:
1)

Instead of being the one standing in front of the gravestone, I'd just be a normal, curious girl who stood on the sidelines. Maybe it was because I had no one else to trust that time. My parents were, and frankly still are wasted as ever and I don't see any hope of them changing their ways anytime soon. So I guess I saw you as a raft; a single flicker of hope that could drag me away from the ashes.

It seems a bit awkward to talk about your parents right here. I understand the purpose but perhaps putting it in its own paragraph or placing it in the beginning of the piece would be more effective.

2) turn your similes into metaphors. Metaphors are more effective.

3) "Twined"? That's a bit awkward. Find a different word.

4) You place the blame on both you and Sara at some point but then later state that it's neither of ya'lls fault. I would really like to see more time put into that transition between blaming yourself and Sarah and admitting that neither of you are really to blame.