You were everything I wasn't but I hoped to be. I suppress the thought of you, buried deep off in my mind, but I still think of you from time to time. My mother lost her child in the 4th grade, it must've been hard for her to accept the change in me, from sweet and innocent, to stressed and insolent. There were times when I had to raise my self, that's probably why I've never been able to ask for help. Now that I'm older I need it the most, but who can I ask? There were days after that I would pray for death, but who would be there as I exhaled my final breath. I could never see them again so I felt as though there was nothing left but death.