I keep hoping that twin telepathy thing works in the afterlife, but it’s been seven months and so far I haven’t gotten any messages from you. Are you still mad? Because like I told you a zillion times, it was a complete accident. You know I would never murder you… not on purpose.
Anyway, today is our birthday. Happy Sweet Sixteen.
Mom made lamb chops, in honor of poor dead Allison because it was my favorite. Weird. I mean since you are really the one… and you hate meat. But you know how I love lamb, so I ate three chops and Mom says to me, “Sarah, I thought you were a vegetarian.” Oops!
I actually can’t believe Mom doesn’t recognize me. I don’t even have your dimples. I caught her staring at my birthmark the other day. Sometimes I think she and Dad don’t want to know the truth. Besides, the truth won’t bring you back. It will just bring ME back and nobody wants that.
By the way, it’s been impossible to keep your grades up. This semester I can still coast on pity, but next year… I guess you’ll just drop off the honor roll. And I had to break up with Kevin because he was getting suspicious. He wasn’t right for you anyway. You’re dating Andy Hendricks now. I know, sort of a bold move for you, but grief affects us all differently.
So I’m in the kitchen doing the dinner dishes — your job. Right now I’m washing the platter, the white one with the blue rim. It’s wet so I can see my face reflected in it and if I hold it at a certain angle I can sort of see yours too, right next to mine, like we’re here together.
Sometimes when I pass a store window I see you walking along with me like old times, like we’re still hanging out. Are we?
I hope so because I hate being me being you. I feel like half a person.
So Sarah, if you can hear me I am inviting you in. Just jump into my body and take it over like in Ghost. Or we can share it or something. Whatever you think would work out best.
If you can hear me, please give me a sign. At least let me know you forgive me.