My roommate of 2 years suddenly vanished. She was a bright, cheerful girl. The police searched, but even her parents gave up hope.
Five years later, I was clearing out her room to sell the house. While moving the dresser, I found a hidden hole in the wall. I placed my hand in and, to my shock, found a bunch of old, folded letters tied with a faded ribbon.
My heart raced as I sat on the floor and carefully untied the ribbon. The first letter was in Sarah’s handwriting shaky but familiar. “If you’re reading this, it means I’ve gone.
I don’t want you to think badly of me,” it began.
“I’ve been drowning in expectations from school, from my family, and even from myself. I love you all, but I need to find who I really am.
Please try to understand.” I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Sarah hadn’t been taken or harmed she had chosen to leave.
The next letters painted a
What happened next changed everything…
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