by Danielle Hieronimi

Created on: July 18, 2008

"Dear Mom, I assume you have found me. I don't really know what to write in this note. I guess goodbye. And I love you. It had nothing to do with you. It was... complicated. And... hey, maybe I won't go through with it. Ya know? I'm still trying to figure out the whole death thing. Maybe I'll be looking over your shoulder when you read this. I'm not sure. I am just so, so sorry that you had to see me like that. Even though I don't know what it looks like. But I'm guessing bad. I just... I'm really sorry mom. There just wasn't another way. Tell daddy I love him. And to keep strong. I miss him, and still miss him. I guess I'll miss you too. And please call Buckley for me. Tell him he was a great brother. The best any girl could ask for. And... I just, I feel like I'm rambling on. But I am so, so sorry. Again. I don't know what else to say. I just love you. And I'll miss you. Sorry if this ruins your lives. I love you. And I'm sorry. Really. I love you.

Sorry,

Lola"

Ms. Shrewer was so shocked she couldn't even sob any more. She couldn't breathe. She could not blink. Her body was numb. Seeing her daughter mutilated like that in the bathtub was devastating enough. Then a letter? As she read it, she could picture Lola rambling on in her usual awkward way. It was too much for her. She thought her daughter was happy. Everyone did. Everyone thought Lola was the greatest person alive. She just had to find out the reason. It was such a... well, schock was an understatement to say the least. It was so random a day too. A Thurday, she came home from work. Went to use the bathroom. Then, a horrific scream pierced the air. She forced herself to look back at Lola. Lola's peaceful damaged body overwhelmed her. She swallowed hard and fought back tears. Then thought, 'who can see them?'.

She was at a loss as to what she should do. So she decided to follow the note's instructions. The phone rang four times before her ex husband answered in a hopeful voice, "Lola?"
Ms. Shrewer couldn't think of anything to say except, "Harry, Lola is dead."
The words sank in. Mr. Wellington had heard her. He could feel the intensity. The seriousness in her voice. But it just didn't feel right. He simply wasn't able to put together a sentence to ask a proper question or express himself for that matter, "What."
Ms. Shrewer's voice was shaky, "She commited suicide."
There was a long awkward silence. Heavy breathing and tear drops rolling down cheeks were all that was heard. Finally Mr. Wellington's voice

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