Dear Lilly,

If you are reading this letter, I’m probably dead already… I am literally laughing my butt off right now because of how creepy and cliched this sounds right now. I feel like this would be even creepier if I said, “I WILL HAUNT U FROM NOW ON” or “I have always loved you..”, but this letter is not supposed to be funny.

The reason why I’m “telling” you this is because I need to tell someone this. I know I haven’t had the chance to talk to you, but you look like a nice, reliable person and I feel like I can trust you with this.

You might not know this yet, but I’ve been diagnosed with lung cancer. I’m currently going through treatment, but so far, there is no effect. I wish I could say the exact day I will die, but like when you are born, you can never tell.

It’s hard, you know? My body hurts. It aches for something more than me. It’s stripping away me. My mom does so much for me, and so does my dad. I wish I could just die now. I don’t want to burden them any longer.

You know what else hurts? Living a life with so much potential, but then not. I saw myself at Stanford, living the dorm life at 20, but now I know I won’t even make it to high school graduation. But, I wish the doctors didn’t tell me that I was going to die. Maybe then I could of lived life believing that I had a future. That I could be anything else but dying. It hurts knowing that my mom will die before I do. Heck, I might even die before my grandpa dies.

Lilly, I never had the chance to say this, but I’ve always enjoyed talking to you. I like the way you include me into your conversations, and somehow make it not awkward. I like how you don’t brag, but you aren’t too modest. I like… everything about you. I guess you could say that, I wish I could be like you. Pretty. Kind. Full of hope.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you talking with your friends. You said that you wanted to get a scholarship and go to Harvard and be a engineer. I hope that happens. I want you to work hard. Do it for me.

If you are reading this letter now, it means that I am dead. It means that my existence no longer belongs to this world, it means that when people think of me, they will think of my deathbed. The world I left behind.

And so you don’t blame me when I don’t, goodbye.

Sincerely, Evelyn.