to adeline cantrelle, 

is this stupid?

of course it is. what on earth am i thinking? you probably don't remember me. it was maybe six years ago. we were eight. conner patterson and ryan o'connell were bullying me on the playground - just pushing me around, throwing things, you know, normal kid stuff. i was beginning to think that kids my age were no different than my dad, who seemed so old.

and then you showed up. 

you were beautiful. like an angel. for years i swore i saw this light, and this halo and these wings. you shoved conner and ryan aside and fearlessly told them you were learning karate and would become a black belt in a few years. 

the new girl was standing up to them. them, the popular kids, the perfect ones, whose parents blindly and wholeheartedly believed they could do no wrong. and you were doing it for me. 

you probably don't remember me. but, when i think, you're the only person who's done that - stood up for me, actually cared about me - and i'm desperate, adeline. i'm desperate and i am broken, and you are so beautifully perfect. 

maybe you can fix whatever the hell is wrong with me. 

we're fourteen now. god, this still feels so stupid, but like i said, i'm desperate. if you're still reading this, thank you. that means you're also the only person who even bothers to try with me. 

so i'm telling you. 

it hurts, adeline. 

my dad's anger, my mom's absence, the living, the pain, all of it. 

i am tired and in pain and broken. 

i am damaged, adeline. 

i'm sorry, 

ᴋᴀɪ ᴅᴀʟʟᴀʀᴏꜱᴀ