Dear Emma

chapter 11 || kai

--edited

Dear Emma,

This is already so cheesy. We're supposed to write in these stupid journals for this stupid grief camp every day about anything we want. I don't wanna pour my deepest secrets onto here so I guess that's why I'm writing a letter to you that you won't ever read.

If you were here with me, you'd probably agree with me. But then again, if you were still here, I wouldn't have to attend this stupid thing and I wouldn't be writing this either.

I really miss you Em. You were my best friend and you always will be. I bet you already know how I've been coping and I know you would hate it, but you aren't here anymore. You can't tell me that what I've been doing is wrong, because you can't. You're dead.

What hurts the most is the fact that you just left. Not even a goodbye, Em. I was your best friend for over 6 years and I didn't even get a proper goodbye. I didn't get a chance to tell you that I loved you and I fucking need you.

So my question is, why? Why'd you leave like that? I know your mom died and that your dad couldn't cope with that so he left, but I was still here. My family was here for you. My mom loved you like her own. Ryder was here for you. And now, he's in so much fucking pain.

And I can't help him either.

How am I supposed to help someone who's in the same rut as me? If I can't even dig myself out, how the hell am I supposed to help him? I can't let the same thing that happened to you happen to him either.

I can't lose both of you.

I don't know what to do anymore. I can't help Ry, can't help myself, couldn't help you either. I wish you were here. You always knew what to do. Always the better of the two of us, weren't you, Em?

I love you, Emma. I just wish it was enough for you.

Kai

I stare at the words I wrote down, reminding myself of what I did when I read her letter to me. Her letter to me involved a lot of anger when I was reading it. I refused to believe that she killed herself. She was doing so much better than when her mom's death and dad's abandonment was still fresh.

When that was still fresh, she fell into a spiraling depression. She isolated herself from the world, sitting in our guest room in full darkness, crying herself to sleep. She didn't eat, she didn't get out of the room, she didn't do anything. It took weeks before she let us in to help. After a couple of months of everyday therapy, she was getting back to herself. I knew she was working on it, but I didn't realize that she was still so depressed.

So depressed that she took her own life.

I could use a drink right about now. Every bone in my body is screaming for me to grab something, anything that will help me forget; to stop thinking. I need a release. I need something to fill this aching hole left in me; one I just dug a little deeper.

Thinking is the demon and my mind falls right into its trap.

"Kai? Are you alright?" a concerned voice asks. I forgot that I wasn't alone. When she wants to, Callie can really make herself seem as if she's not there.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" I look over to the general vicinity of Callie's bed. Her side of the room is completely dark already and the room is lit just by the little bit of light emitting from a small night lamp from my side.

"Kai," she flips on the light, illuminating the entire room, and sits upright, "you were almost hyperventilating. And your voice is really husky too."