This Star Won't Go Out

If you weren’t around (which would be unbelievable sad , I know Mom would be just as amazing at what she does, and you know it! She’s a really lovely woman. If she were a friend’s mom, I’d be like “OYR mom is supAH cool!!” but instead, I’m like, “ya Mom is cool GET ME SOME BLUEBERRIES PLZ!!!”


But let’s be srs for a min; I love talking to Mom. About serious things or not serious things. I love hugging her and I love when she reassures me that things are okay; even when . . . you guessed it . . . they aren’t. Mommy is amazing and I love her.


Now you on the other hand . . . I cannot stand you!!! I’m only writing this ten page letter to show you how much I don’t love you.





Oh man, I had you good. Yeah, I actually CARE ABOUT YOU, Wayne! lol your face . . . oh . . . but I’m not gonna talk about you NOW so owned.


FIN . . . of chapter 3


Chapter 4: Esther is bad (to the bone)


Can I tell you a secret DON’T GET MAD I just feel I should tell you? Although I’ve never been kissed, (boo) there was this one time when you and Mom went to a date and the boys were at youth group. So, Ang invited Kelsey over and I decided to actually LEAVE my room and go downstairs outside to help them start a mini campfire. This was a while ago . . . so we (well, Kelsey and Angie and I watched) made a fire succesfully and were psyched. They were drinking a bit of wine so I had some (now now don’t flip out I’m just telling stories ). Wasn’t really good but I had 2 glasses. (I’ve had 2 glasses in a row before that, in France.) By then Ang had invited over Adam and some friends of hers. And then I laid on the trampoline and the sky spun and my breathing felt super good and Angie looked in my eyes and declared me drunk.


Anyway I’m debating whether or not to rip this page off, but I’d actually like to share the story of my first* time drunk with you.


So, Angie and her friends decided they were gonna go to Kelsey’s to hang out (AFTER picking up the boys). So Angie helped me upstairs, me wobbling and giggling a lot. She carried my oxygen, although—I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what—I didn’t feel out of breath. Coolness. So I get upstairs and she tells me to sleep and call her if I need her. Which I did, when I got hiccups. Finally they went away, though, and I fell asleep. Woo, rebellion.


Literally the first regular-teenager-in-America thing I’ve done, Ai ai ai.


Oh, despite my “date” w/Yasser when I was still 14. We went to some movie together and with a group that afterwards went to the 99 to eat. But the whole thing was awkward and he had to leave during dinner I DON’T KNOW it was awkward, Lmao.


So other than that, the most action and “alcohol” I get are sleeping with Mickey and drinking a sip of Mom’s Smirnoff. I’m WILD, baby!


Another “bad” thing I’ve done is this:20 me and Angie loved Barbies for a while, if you’ll remember. We’d have a bunch of clothes that we’d dress our Barbies in, and we’d build houses and rooms for them, and then we’d not really play. The set up is the most fun.


And but so, we always wanted new clothes . . . we’d go to yard sales and buy their bags of old Barbie-clothes . . . but it still wasn’t enough (because we were greedy children).


So one time when we were “forced” to visit a “friend’s” house who had kids, and those kids had Barbies—so we played with them. And then, when we were alone in there, we grabbed this (I still remember) red, Barbie dress that we thought was beautiful and maybe some other stuff, and STOLE IT.


I felt so bad but Isabelle and Skipper and Barbie looked so good . . .


Yeah but ok, that’s the end of that story. Pretty sure we sold all our Barbie clothes in a yard sale. lol.


What do you think of me now? I’ve told you all my dirty secrets. Should I be hung, like that bro on Twilight Zone? lol jk plz don’t do that . . .


Oh, ’member when Graham fell off the bed in Saudi? Ugh, I felt so bad, Dad, ’cause me and Amanda were jumping off my bunk bed and then poor Grahamy slipped off and broke his arm.: (I kinda remember going to the hospital, but Idk. Too little to remember, I suppose?


Do I feel guilty for anything else? I’m trying to think . . . Oh, here’s a “serious” one . . . For starters, I know that you would never, ever blame me for anything caused by my cancer. But there ARE times where I feel so guilty. Lemme explain:


? my cancer brought us back to America. I know you were running low on money, but I also know that you loved France. Makes me . . . sad.


? my cancer KEPT us in America. I know that’s not what we planned but, idk, sometimes I feel guilty. I know I shouldn’t, but feelings are feelings.