Hello May.

This is... the last letter I'll be writing to you.

Mom found the previous ones that I've kept in a shoe box and yelled at me. Told me to grow up, that you weren't alive anymore.

And. She's right. You're not, and telling myself any different is hopeless.

You died last Christmas.

I miss you. I'm sorry that I've been angry with you, even if you can't read these. It's not fair of me. I should be more mature than that.

I hope I'll see you again one day.

Goodbye, sis. I'll make sure to tell our sibling everything about you so that maybe they'll be blessed with a little bit of your light as well.

Silas.