Letter to The person controlling my life.

I hope you realize how I feel, and what you've done.

Year 2003, 6 years ago from now.

I stared blankly at my uncle, disbelieving his words. Lies...I whispered. "Lies!! You're lying!! It's not true!! She's alive!!! She's in the hospital and the doctor if going to make her better, and she's going to be okay!!!" I yelled at my parents and uncle, who were trying to grab me to calm me down, as I pulled away crying. I didn't believe in what my uncle had just told me. As they left, I grabbed my stuffed toy dog, Benny, that my father had bought me when I was 3. I held it tightly and cried on my bed. I can't remember how long I cried...but all I knew is that I couldn't stop the tears from coming out. I couldn't stop wailing. I couldn't believe. That night was the longest night ever.

When I had cried hysterically, my uncle told my parents to leave me alone, and went downstairs with them. Leaving me alone to cry and cry. I didn't go downstairs, I didn't continue playing with my dolls. I probably cried until I fell asleep. I had dreamed of the way my aunt passed. my parents were in her room by her bed side. The doctor told them there was nothing he could do, the machine as he called it, was already breathing for her. She was gone...

He turned off the machine...and her last breath was gone...she was gone...forever...

Going to school, I wasn't the same person. I became depressed, and didn't want my aunt dead, but she was. She loved me, and protected me, and now she was gone. I cried at least once each day. I had to talk to a psychiatrist for a few weeks or so. Meeting her each day to speak about my dreams and how I was feeling. When done with meeting her, I would walk up the stairs to class, and begin crying again. I tried to hold it in, but when I got to class, the tears came out again. Students told my teacher I was crying, she would tell me my aunt was in a better place as I whimpered saying I missed her. I felt so alone.


Even years later, I still remember. I still cry for her, and I still miss her as much as before. But I'm not as I used to be, I don't cry each day. Usually its when I think of her, or when I visit her at the cementary. The memory is still there.


And I can never forget her.


So I pray, that she is happy, that He is taking care of her, and that she is watching over me, smiling.


Because I am looking up at her, smiling too.

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Psalm 23 A Psalm of David.

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever."

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