Dear Emily Medley,
You are a mess. You need to...I don't know. But something needs to happen. I hope it happens soon, because you're making your mom a nervous wreck. Here's a suggestion: Go out, take the last of your money, buy some rope strong enough to hold your fat ass. Go online and learn how to make a noose. Go out to the country or some other deserted place where no one will think to look for a while and hang yourself. Be sure to get an adult diaper and a lawn sized trash bag to tie around your waist so that the mess from the impact of a very vertical death isn't to much to clean up.
The real reason I'm writing this letter is so I can send it to myself in order to get a library card in the city of Crystal Lake. Without a library card, I have nothing. That's not true. I have a lot of things, but at least I will be able to go somewhere and stay for a period of time whilst high on pills. I like the library. It's a sort of safe haven for me. So here goes. I'm going to get a library card in a different city than the one I was born and raised in.
I think that's why I'm so messed up at the moment. Because my life was torn to shreds...well from birth, but more recently, almost a year ago. We had to leave the home I grew up in, with my willow tree in the back yard, for a trailer in a town I hate. At least I had my three cats. About a month ago, the electricity was shut off in the trailer. My mother and I were forced to move in with my aunt, leaving the cats, the loves of my life, behind. I miss them more than anything. I want my Kashka back, she is so sweet and loving. Oblio, with his attitude, is a humor that is needed in life. Lastly, but so not least, Grandma The Cat. She and I have a connection like none other. She knows when I am upset, she will put her nose to my hairline, sniff, and lick my forehead. That is her way of expressing affection toward me. When I cry, she comes to comfort me in the only way she knows how.
My dreams are becoming torturous. I dream of holding dear Kashka, petting Grandma, and looking out of my bedroom window at my willow tree, knowing that I will wake up and it will all be gone. I will be here, without them, without the unconditional love of my three cats, without the beauty and sentiment of the willow tree that swayed me to sleep at night and greeted me gracefully in the morning.
My hope is that there is a heaven and no hell. That I will sit under my willow, surrounded by Kaska, Oblio, Grandma, and the before unmentioned, deceased, Amy the family dog, Josephine, Shadow, Hans, and all others. My mother will sit at an ornate lawn table, talking and laughing with my dearly departed Uncle Tony. There will be no one there who isn't wanted and nothing to ruin anything ever again.
Post Script: I hope the library will accept a hand written addressed stamped envelope.