"Hey, Ashton

So they say when something traumatic happens to write it all down. They say to include everything that lead up to it and everything soon after, otherwise your memories will become skewed, and I don't want to forget a single thing about us, so here goes...

This is going to be one long letter. I might have to go buy some more paper, because honestly who uses the stuff anymore, but I really don't care. I'm not doing anything else 'til this is finished. You know what's sad, though? My hand is already hurting, and I've barely written ten sentences. I've never been the tough one between us, have I? But now it looks like I have no choice.

            The whole skewed memories thing must not be in play yet, because I can still remember the day we met better than yesterday. Maybe the memory loss is starting now and traveling back in time eating away my memories! Oh. I better hurry then.

            I honestly thought you were weird the first time I saw you, and not in a good way. I don't know if I ever told you, so I am now. There were no other kids on the beach at the time, and I was bored, but I was determined not to talk to you. It was a well know fact that boys had cooties. Definitely scientifically proven.

Oh, I just realized that would mean I'm infected now. Oops...

            The sun poured onto my skin as I lay listening to music so as to drown out our mother's voices... heaven knows what music I was listening to at that age. Oh please don't have been kid's bop. 

            When I woke up, I couldn't move. Our moms seemed to find it adorable that you had buried me in scratchy, itchy, damp sand which had found its way under my nails and between my toes and just ugh! I was ready to rip your head off. Your chubby dimpled cheeks smiling down at me to reveal slightly crooked teeth only made my seething anger grow stronger.

            You patted one last chunk of sand over my knee and laid your head on it, staring up at me. You said something, and to this day I still have no idea what it was 'cause my head set was still on. I always seemed to forget to ask you.....

            I don't know why I didn't try to break out of the coffin you so kindly built me. I guess I was more content to just glare at you. Eventually, you did the unforgivable and pulled my head set off.

            "Do you not like it?" you asked.

            "What do you think, you turd monkey?" I bit.

            Your lip began to quiver a bit which actually made me quite proud. It wasn't 'til much later that that action could melt my heart to the floor.

            "I thought you would like it. The sun is so hot and you were just laying here unprotected," you explained.

            "I like the sun."

            "But you're so pale. It was hurting you," you sniffed.

            "I am not pale!"

            In an instant your eyes lit up, and you jumped to your feet, jogging off. A few moments later you waddled back, lugging a bucket filled with salt water. A deep trail tagging behind you like that of a lizard in the desert.

            "Don't you dare!" I warned.

            "I'll wash it off you. I put it there, so I'll make it go away I'm sorry you hate it."

            "No, no I love it!" I insisited.

            "Don't' lie. Lying is rude," you reprimanded, struggling to tip the bucket over me. Finally, it fell over, and a wash of liquid engulfed me.

            Sputtering, I scrambled to my feet, the soaking wet towel I had been laying on squishing beneath me. I looked down the see my CD Walkman covered in a pool of wet sand.

            "You are so dead!" I screamed.

            Your eyes shot wide as you scampered off, me chasing behind you. For some reason our moms found it adorable to see their two six year-olds running around the beach like maniacs, one threatening death upon the other.

            Actually, they found it so adorable they made a play date for us that Saturday. I can't say things went much better then. If I remember correctly, that day ended with me holding you in a headlock while I made fun of your stuffed pony and threatened to rip its head off. To be honest, I actually found it quite cute that you had the toy, but I never would have said so.

Okay, well I know I said I wasn't going to move 'til I was done, but my stomach has other ideas, and mom made spaghetti... your favorite. It will be ready in a bit, and I have to make myself presentable. Concealer has become a staple recently for me. I never knew before how well it does at covering red and swollen eyes. As long as I make myself look okay, they won't question if I am, and that means I can stop lying. 

See you later. I know I will,

~ Love, Sierra

Setting the pen down, I stored the papers in my desk and stepped into my bathroom. The tube of makeup lay shriveled and used on the counter. I wiped below my eyes one last time before dabbing it on and rubbing it in with my finger. Exhausted, I took a deep breath and examined myself. I looked like I had been run over by a truck. No amount of makeup could cover up the exhaustion pulling at my eyes and the almost permanent tracks down my cheeks. With a sniff, I straitened my shoulders and headed for the stairs. Taking a deep breath, I held it for a second before letting it out and practically skipping down to the first floor.

            "Hey, mom. Hi, Dad!" I reached over to wrap Dad in a hug. I hadn't done so in quite a few years, but I would rather go over board then have them question my sanity again.  "How was work?"

            "Okay. How are you, honey?" he asked, concerned.

            "Fine." I plastered a smile on my face.

            "Good," he said, turning back to the mail on the breakfast bar.

            "Dinner is served!" Mom called from the kitchen, and I wondered into the kitchen, getting a cup of water before taking a seat.

            "Sisi?" Mom asked, using my childhood pet name.

            "Yeah, mom?"

            "Have you started on the thing yet?" Her eyes flooded with understanding, and I hated it.

            "Yeah," I sighed, twisting my fork in the pasta.

            "Oh, spaghetti! Ash's favorite!" Kinsie cheered, walking in.

            I almost choked, though I had yet to eat.