Page 111 - Ext. Listening Reading_Neat

sure mostly you, so anything you want to me a thick beige folder with a single piece
keep it's yours." She flashed me her best
smile.
"Anything?" I repeated.
She confirmed, "Anything." Of course I
could take anything! It didn't mean
anything to her! She didn't know what any
of that stuff meant to Sandy. The diary
taped under her desk or the sticker
collage she made adding a new one every
night she slept in an empty house. What
did she think? That she one day just
decided to start putting some stickers up
on her wall? It didn't do me any good to
start thinking of this as I was sitting here
with her mother so I tried to push the
thoughts aside.
"Before we do this there's just one thing I
need to understand."
"Whatever you need, Angel." She leaned in
and put her hand over mine.
"How did she die?" She let go of my hand.
"Excuse me?"
"I know she killed herself but how? What
happened? I just... I don't understand
what made her decide this was it. And I
need to know could I have saved her?" A
tear fell down my face and I met her eyes,
realizing she was also crying. She took a
deep breath and seemed to be thinking
hard before she nodded and stood.
"Come with me." She led me up the stairs,
first door to our left. "Wait here," she
instructed. I looked around and realized I
was standing in what could only be
Sandy's room. I had only seen it a few
times before as we walked across it and
out one of the windows onto the roof when
she was able to steal some of her mother's
lipsticks.
Mrs. Anderson entered and motioned me
to sit in the seating area and she took a
seat across from me. "Here," she handed
of paper on top.
"What is this?"
She signed deeply before answering. "It's
Sandy's case file. That on top, is her
suicide letter." I froze. "Read it hun. Those
are her words and the best way to
describe why she did, what she did." She
wiped away a few tears and looked away.
With a trembling hand I turned the piece
of paper over.
To whoever finds me,
I guess I should start this by saying how
sorry I am, but I'm not. I'm relieved, I'm
glad I don't have to be stuck here with a
bunch of people who can't even pretend to
care about me. I'm writing this only to let
you know it was definitely you. The people
who were supposed to care and protect
me. You're the reason I'm ending my life.
On my arm you'll find the best word I feel
to describe you. Because you never loved
me, even when you tried to convince me
you did.
Never again.
Sandy
"This isn't it..." my voice is a whisper as I
take in what I've just read.
"What?" Mrs. Anderson is standing over
my shoulder.
"Her writing. She didn't... she didn't write
this!"
"What are you talking about?" She says
angrily. "These are her final words! How
dare you say she didn't write them?"
"No!" I shove her aside and run to the
desk on the opposite side of the room. I
pull a paper out that's caught in-between
two books. I don't know what date it's
from. What year or what month but the
heading itself is enough. I've been in
school with her for almost twelve years.
The difference is clear.
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