December 31, 20—

Dear Ate Helene,

By the time you read this, I am probably riding on a bus or anything to run away from our home. It's not you and Mom's fault that I am going through something right now. It was all my fault that I didn't grow up to be a strong woman like you.

It was my entire fault that I couldn't talk about what I've been, and going through.

You were always on my side whenever I had an argument with someone. You always understand my point, even though you know that what I am fighting for is just nonsense and damn pointless. You were always there to support me in everything.

I will never forget how I bought the first book from my collection. I bought it with you. And the money I used to buy it, you helped me earn it. And remember how I cried after reading that novel? You also cried when you finished reading it after me.

I'll never forget how you read my novel and laughed out loud, and told me that the character of the story I wrote was so me. All the corny jokes I put in the story, you know that it was really me. It was the corny side of me.

You started calling me by the name of that character and you never knew how much it makes my heart very happy. At least, someone who knows every bit of me read my story; Someone understands the story better than anyone who reads the story too.

Remember when you caught me having a boyfriend? I was so scared that time that you'll tell mom about it, but you didn't. You just didn't like the guy and you constantly remind me to always take care of myself because you know, from your instinct, that there's something on my boyfriend at that time that will get me in trouble.

And you're never wrong, Ate.

But what I'm proud about myself is that I listened to you. I loved myself more than I loved him. I took care of myself more than I did to him. I think about myself, more than I did to him.

And when I got my heart broken from officially breaking up with him, you were always there for me. You never left me. You gave me foods constantly. You always deliver food to my room just when I finish eating the one you gave me earlier.

You helped me and you motivated me to study. You always gave me words that will encourage me. You never let me lose my focus on my studies. You always give me something that will make me stop worrying about how painful it is to be fooled by someone I thought that loved me.

Sure, we may have fought a lot since we were kids, but that's just normal, right? We're siblings. And having fights is what makes our bond stronger. We may have misunderstandings, I may hurt your feelings often because I am such a childish person, but that's normal, right? You won't be hurt if you never loved the person, they said.

You hurt me too, and you often misunderstand me. But as I've written this letter, I just realize how much you love me. You've treated me like your own child. You fed me, you put clothes on me, you taught me . . . everything. It was like you were my mom also.

But, I've always felt so insecure whenever I see you. You're so pretty. You look so happy, normal, and everything about you is so opposite of me.

I envy you for having a normal body. You won't be a victim of bullying, because, me, having this thin body, is a curse for me. I hate that even though I ate too much, I can never gain fats. . . even a little.

I madly hate myself for that. But I hate myself more, I loathe myself more, because, why am I having insecurities about things that you have that I don't have? That makes me a monster, right? This is one of the reasons why I hate myself.

I also envy you because. . . you're so pretty and normal, you got to be loved and accepted easily by society. Unlike me—I need to change something about me so that I can feel that I belong to them. You don't need to change anything about you, because you are well-loved and well-accepted by the people around you.

You know what? I am always criticized by our neighbours. They would often ask me, "Why won't you be like Helene? You're pretty, yes. But if you'll have a body like her, you'll be a lot prettier than Helene."

I. FUCKING. HATE. THOSE. WORDS.

There was also a time that I went home crying from buying food outside. A group of older women, older than mom, were talking to me, and they would constantly compare me to you. Like the course I took and the course you took.

They said that business management is nothing compared to nursing. They told me that, with the brain I have, I can pass that easily the way you did, or even better than you did. I couldn't say anything, because I know that they are right; my profession is nothing compared to yours. They bravely rubbed it in my face like I was nothing.

I. FUCKING. HATE. THAT.

Those were the days that I just wished that I was you. Those were the days that I prayed to God that. . . I should be like you. I badly wanted to be you every damn time.

And every time you tell me stories about your friends since elementary, that you guys are still in touch up to this day, I always pinch myself for feeling so insecure. I never had a friend who stayed with me that long. I never had a friend who'll stick with me through thick and thin. I felt so envious, but you have nothing to do with my feelings. You're not at fault that I am an insecure bitch. I just feel so bad for you, that you had to have me as your sister.

I also feel so envious that you liked cooking and doing household chores, but I didn't. I don't like it. I don't have the passion to do it like you. I love your cooking skills. You never let the food taste bad just because you lack ingredients. You easily understand what needs to be done when something feels lacking. While I couldn't even fry a hotdog without getting it burned.

And for the last thing that I felt insecure. . . it was when you met the man you're going to live with you for the rest of your lives.

I have no intentions on building my own family, marrying a guy, or having a kid, for the mere reason, or for the fact, that I won't find someone who will love me and accept me for who I am.

And I am so envious that you find yours but I can't.

Not that I want someone. . . I mean, I want someone too but I lost hope already. And I am afraid that the sister I adore the most will lose her time to me. I don't want you talking about your husband's family. I hate that someone else is making you happy like I did.

I hate it.

And I hate myself for feeling this way.

I didn't tell you this to make you feel bad. I told you everything so that you would know how I feel this whole time. I'll be gone for good, and I want you to know what kind of a person your little sister is.

I am never the saint in this family, Ate. I have always been the black sheep, hiding my true colors behind my angelic attitude that everyone was saying.

I am never innocent about something I always claimed to be. I knew things that you never realized that I will understand.

And I hate it.

Please, promise me that you'll live a happy life and you'll have kids, okay? I want you to have kids, since you love taking care of them. You like kids so much, while I was here, getting irritated easily with their noise, but I like kids too. My liking for kids is nothing compared to yours.

And when you have a child, promise me to look closely with the way they act, okay? Always ask them about their day, always ask them how they feel. . . because nobody asked me why I was so quiet that day when I was 7.

Anyway, I know I'll never go to heaven with what I will do by the end of the year, but, Ate, this is what I need to do in order to get the serenity I never had. I can't live longer anymore. I've given up my life a long time ago, and. . . there's nothing that can stop me from doing so.

Ate Helene, I hate cheesy things but. . . if I can hug you right now, I will, because I know that you're crying hard already in your room while reading this. I will hug you and I will constantly remind you how much I love you.

I love you with all of my heart.

I may not be the perfect sister that you asked for, I may have endless insecurities with you and a lot in other things, but my love for you. . . my affection for you is always sincere.

I loved you dearly, and I will always do, until I am a roaming ghost here in this world.

Please take care of yourself.

And open my locked closet. The key is inside this envelope. That was the place where I hid all the books I pretended to sell. I never had the intention to sell it, Ate. I never even think of selling it. I just did that so that you will hate me.

I need to do it for you to hate me, so that, when I lost the love of everyone, I can die painfully, but in peace.

But you and mom's love was so unconditional, I can't make you both hate me. You love me so much, that even though I made the worst mistake of my life, you still stay with me by my side.

And please remember, that even though you never really made it to become a registered nurse, I am so proud of you for what you've become right now and what you've achieved before.

Just as much as you're proud of me, I am also proud of you.

I am proud that I have a sister that took the course and made it to the last year of studying, even though you never really liked the course.

I'm proud of you. . . very very proud of you.

Please forget about the way I die, okay? Please forget it immediately.

Do not let yourself be drowned in sadness. Please, move on, okay?

I know how you deal with pain and I don't want you to always remember how painful it is for the both of you to leave this world on my own way. Please understand me.

I know that what I did was so against heaven, but I can no longer do it anymore.

I am so sorry for the way I lived, and the way I left.

I am so sorry that I am not the person you thought I am.

And I am so sorry that you have to read such a letter but. . . I hope you'll understand me.

Thank you. I don't know how I should thank you for everything, but. . . you're one of the greatest gifts that God has given me. I feel so sad for the other people who didn't have someone like you.

Thank you. I don't know how to say these words to you because. . . I was never this type of person, right?

You know it already. Thank you. Thank you for existing. And I hope you continue existing in this beautiful world they say. I never saw or realized the beauty of it, but, I hope you do, and continue spreading the words about how beautiful this world is.

I love you, Ate. . . with all of my heart.

Sincerely,

Serene.