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“Mom, I swear I’ll be fine.” I give her the brightest smile I could muster up to convince her and my dad to go out and enjoy. The both of them didn’t look convinced. I sighed. “I’ll be safe here even though the both of you will be out. I’ll make sure to lock all the doors and windows and I won’t open the door until you’ve come home.”

     A moment passed, then: “maybe she’s right, Ellie. Our daughter can take care of herself. She’s basically a grown-up. Almost eighteen.

     “It’s still about a year to go, John,” she corrected.

     “Mom.” I look at her in the eye. “You guys deserve a night out having fun. Not cooped up in a house to watch over a girl who is completely capable of taking care of herself.” I have always appreciated my parents and I love them too, very much. They have always been there for me when I needed them. But they have to think of themselves too. They both deserve to go out tonight and have fun. They deserve more than anyone can offer.

     My mother eventually agreed – albeit reluctant – with the convincing of my father. After making sure all the doors and windows were locked, as I had promised my mother, I walked to my room.

     I let my fingers graze the well-maintained piano. It's always clean. It still has a shine to it. 

     It was passed on to us by my Gramps -- mom's dad. The beautiful piano was left to us in his Last Will and Testament. When we used to visit his house in the province Jem would always play it despite not knowing how to. When it was brought home he was so excited. He started teaching me how to play too.

     I scanned the pictures on the walls of the stairs. A lot of them were taken when I was much younger: Jem and I at our favorite ice cream shop, me on my pre-school graduation, a family picture of us at Jem's pre-school graduation... I have one absolute favorite. It's the one on the top of the stairs. In the photograph: Jem and I were in matching blue checkered pajamas caught in mid-air over a bed. We always had contests on who could jump higher. He always won, of course seeing as he was much taller than me but in this photo I reached past him. That time was when he let me win. 

     Even though he was so sick, he was much stronger than me despite his sickess. He always looked out for me being the big brother that he is. Maybe he's still looking out for me. 

     These walls are filled with such memories. My memories of him are still very vivid. They will never fade. It has happened before but I will not let it happen again. I am now standing before the door. I push it open and walk inside. I find much comfort in this house knowing that he has lived and is probably watching me from up above.

     I walk over to take a seat on my desk and turn on my laptop. I hear the familiar sounds that it makes when it turns on. My wallpaper is a picture of a galaxy, it had violet, blue and white swirls. 

     I open a new document on MS Word and begin to type.

Jem,

     Currently, mom and dad are on their way to some fancy restaurant or maybe they’re already there; they were both reluctant to go. Mom was more so. Dad managed to convince her though, just like always. They look much older than they are, but I know they’re doing fine. They still smile even though you’re gone, but not that they – we are happy with that. Gosh, I miss you. We all miss you. They just don’t go out much like they used to but I’m going to start planning different things for them to do. You know… romantic stuff. Stuff we used to shout ‘ew’ all the time and cover our eyes to. I don’t think it’s revolting like it had come to us when we were younger, it actually looks sweet.

     How are you up there in heaven? It must be awesome, being able to walk on the clouds, jump on them without the fear of falling. It’s hard here. Every single day I’m scared of falling, having nothing soft to land on. Mom and Dad won’t always be there for me, I have to face things on my own. When I was twelve, I shouldn’t have experienced the things I did. You shouldn’t have experienced what you had when you were fourteen. Mom and Dad never had to bury their child.

x Mal 

     I hit the Ctrl button and the letter S and a small window pops up. I click the This folder and enter the number 95, as the ninety-fifth letter I've ever written to Jem, on the File Name and hit Enter.

     The file has now been saved.  

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