Ok, I might as well go on and write this thing before it's too late. This letter or bulltin is for everyone to read. Some already know my story but some of you don't. I think it's time that I tell everyone what's been going on with MY life. Personally.

It all started after Mama's death (January 1st, 2005). When you all would look at me you'd see a smile. Of course I'd smile but did you all ever think what was under that smile? Under that smile was pain. Suffering. Blame. Yes. I always blamed myself for Mama's death. I couldn't help her as much as I should've. I knew I could've done more. At least I thought I could. I don't really know how much I could've done. But I didn't do enough at the time. All I did was watch and stand there. Sometimes I'd help her get to the bathroom and things but other than that I couldn't do nothing. Only sit and stare and do nothing.

After Mama died that morning, I ran to my bedroom after crying with Daddy and Patrick and looked out my window crying. Crying to God. I said, "God, thank you for making my prayer happen. Thank you for letting Mama live on her birthday. Thank you. So much. Take her to see Nannie and Grandpa and Paw Paw. Most of all God let her know no matter what I'll always love her and miss her. Thank you again God." I held Lucky tight in my arms and told him Mama was gone and he looked at me like he understood what I said. He knew Mama was gone too. I called Ashley my best friend and told her the news and got her sympathy. I saw Daddy call Uncle Chuck about Mama and saw in his voice and eyes that it was so hard to tell people Mama was dead. I hated seeing Daddy cry. It made me feel like I couldn't do anything to make him happy again. It hurt. I left to my room again and listened to Daddy make phone calls to everyone. Even to the school. As I heard him say "Their mother died" I just closed my door and cryed so hard. I couldn't stand hearing that word. I didn't want to hear it EVER again in my life.

Soon Daddy made a date to barry Mama and a place. She's barried near her parents and Daddy's daddy. Grandma is still living. Thank God. If she was dead I don't know how things would be for Daddy if she wasn't. I know this much though. I know Daddy would feel like he was the last of his family to walk this earth. That he had no one here for him. Only me and Patrick. At least that's my point of view.

A few days later Mama was in her casket. I remember like it was yesterday. Seeing her in that light blue casket. Her wearing her flowered dress and pearl necklace and earrings. Her wedding band. They put pink lipstick on her lips because her lips were so pale. She wore her hat that she would wear while she took kemo therapy. Her eyes closed. Her hands overlapped each other over her stomach. She looked nice. But I knew her body was dead by how pale and dead she looked. It hurt to see her like that. She didn't look like the person she was anymore. She just looked.... dead. Nothing else. My cousin made a video about her from when she was a baby until she died. I couldn't even watch it with others. It hurt so bad. So I hung out outside for a while.

Then. The part that I hated most of all at the cmitary. When the guys put the top of my mom's casket down I burst into crying. That was the last time I was going to be able to see her face again. As we were listening to the preacher talk about her tears ran down my face. Amazing Grace started to play and I cried along with my little brother and Daddy. We cried even harder after the song. Then Mama's brothers and some other guys picked up Mama and walked her out to the car to be taken to her burrial site. Everyone left into their cars and headed there behind the car with Mama.

We got out of our cars and got under the tent covering Mama's burrial site and herself. The preacher said a few more words and then the guys let her down into the hole underneath her. Everyone was crying. Well. Some guys weren't but that's what you get with guys. They try to be all manly.

My Dad, brother and I had people and almost everyone tell us that if they needed us that they're here for us. After the first five people told me that I got the picture that everyone was going to say that. That's how people are at funerals. They try to be sensitive and nice and sweet to you because they don't want to hurt you anymore than you are then and now.

I thanked everyone for their sympathy and thanked my best friend Ashley so much for coming to my mom's funeral. It really did make me happy she came. It meant so much to me. So Ash if you're reading this I want you to know that I thank you so much for coming to my mom's funeral. It meant a lot to me. It also told me that no matter what you're ALWAYS here for me. Thank you and your mom and Dad so SO much for everything you've done for me but not only me but my brother and Dad. Thank you. I love you guys SO much!!!

The next day was a school day and Patrick and I stayed home that day. We watched movies and T.V. mostly. The next day though we went to school. I felt weird going back to school knowing that I wasn't going to come home to my mom anymore. It hurt to think that. I went into my 5th grade classroom and everyone looked at me. I kept my head and eyes looking down but knew they were looking and starring at me. My teacher, Mrs. Raiford, came to me and gave me one of her HUGE hugs she always gave her students. People gave me their sympathy and like I did before, I thanked them. I went on the day hardly listening but I tried to every now and then. But it was hard. Mama was on my mind the whole time. I don't think I even ate much that day either. It was a rough day. I had people that I knew in other classes and grades and others who I didn't know and teachers look at me and smiled sympathicly at me. I just smiled back and looked down at the ground and went on with what I was doing. I got that for about a week with everyone.

Soon, school got better for me. It went on like a normal day. I smiled a lot more, talked to friends when I was able too, did my work fine, everyone treated me like they did before. It was okay and normal again. I was glad but then again sometimes I'd get to where I'd miss Mama and want to go home. So I'd go to the nurse and tell her I wasn't feeling well. Sometimes I tried really hard to go home. I couldn't stand another minute at school. I wanted to go home and feel my Mama's presence again. I felt as if I lost it at school or something. Then again I missed Daddy and worried about him. Worried he was dead or killed or something happend to him. I was so scared about losing someone else I cared about. I still am. But I went on with school. I passed 5th grade and went on to 6th grade. 6th grade was a blast for me! I loved it! I hardly missed any days at school that year. I always went to school and did well in my classes. I only stayed home when I was really really sick. If I was sick I wouldn't tell Daddy though. I went on to school. I wanted him to stay at work and not have to worry about me. I knew he was trying really hard to get us the money we needed to survive. So I went on to school when I was sick. I still do to this day. Then I passed 6th grade and went on to 7th. 7th grade was awsome! I loved it! I have to say, that was my favorite year of middle school. I had awsome teachers, awsome friends, I had it made. My homeroom class, Mr. Bagwell's class, won the Tug-O-War at Field Day that year. It was awsome. Everything was perfect that year. Then I passed 7th grade and went on to 8th grade. 8th grade was easy. It really was. I had great teachers that year too. I really had the best team out of them all for 8th grade. All my teachers from Kidigarden to 8th grade have loved me to death! It's like they want me as their student every year. I've had teachers tell me great things about myself and wish me wonderful things in the future. They've given me so much love and care and knowlege that I have so much thanks to them. Without them I wouldn't be this close to becoming what I want to become. So if any of my teachers are reading this I'd like to say thank you so so much for everything! You've done so much for me that I can't tell you all thank you for them. I lost count. Thank you for making me a smart younge lady that my family and mother are proud of so far. Without you I wouldn't be where I am today. Thank you all so much! And one more thing, Mrs. Melton, thank you so much for everything. You've done something no other teacher has done for me and that's being like a mother to me. Thank you for encouraging me to keep writing my stories and poems and for reading my poems. It meant a lot to me. Thank you so much.

Now, behind all those years of middle school are some very bad things. In November of 8th grade I began to cut myself. I cut my wrist and made it bleed. I didn't cut too deep. I was too scared to do so. If you look at my left arm you'll see a scar now of a cross I made from a cut then in November. I also did two more above it but they heald better than the others. Soon I got addited to cutting myself. Then again I did it from depression. I was depressed a LOT. I was hurt. In pain. I blamed myself for things that were stupid things. I have counted that I've cut myself at least 20 to 25 or maybe even 30 times. I stopped though a couple of months ago. A guy friend of mine made me see that I was doing the wrong thing. That I was hurting myself for no reason. Then again I was scarring him and making him worry about me. He thought that sooner or later I was going to get to the point that I was going to kill myself. I always thought about dying and I told him I was going to die one day. I told him all kinds of things that led to death. All I thought about was death. I wanted to die so much. I missed my mom so much I couldn't stand being alone anymore. I felt alone every single day of my life. After him showing me and making me see what I was doing I finally stopped. I reget my cutting so much. It was hard to quit. It's like smoking. You can't get over it in a day. It takes a long time. And it did for me. But I got over it. But I still felt alone in some ways. Sometimes I'd feel loved and cared for but I always felt alone everyday in sometime of that day. I'd stare at a safty pin or a needle or remember what my pocket knife looked like and just think about blood and cutting myself constantly. I grieeved for something sharp. Something to cut myself with. I wasn't totally over my cutting. I stopped but I wasn't over it. But I kept reminding myself that I threw away my knife and my cutting self. I threw it all away. I couldn't go back and get it. It was gone forever. I had to become a new person. I had to start over again. Not the cutting but my life. I knew I had too some how. I've noticed that some of my friends were starting to get scared of me because they were scared that I was going to cut them or kill them. Some think that I'm ok and cool. But most were scared and afriad of me. Mostly they all worried about me. They kept telling me that I needed to stop. "Katie you need to stop. Katie you need to stop." or "Katie don't! Don't do it!" or "Not again. Katie you need to stop." "Stop it Katie." "Katie" "You're emo?" "Katie stop cutting yourself." I got it all from them. Soon it spread all over the school and eventually the counsulor called me in to talk to me. And I didn't know what about but I had an idea of what it was. Then she asked me "Have you been cutting yourself?" I told her I did a few times. I had some marks from my dogs. I told her a friend of mine was doing it too and she knew about her also and was going to talk to her about it also. But she and my dad talked about it to make sure he knew about. Daddy found out about it after my friend's mom telling him. I got the guts to tell him the truth about all of them after my friend helped me find out what I was doing to myself. I told him I was going to stop for good. He believed me and I haven't done it again sence then.

I mostly stopped so I couldn't make Daddy cry again. I hate to see him cry expecally about me. I hate it. So I knew if I wanted to make that stop I had to stop doing what I was doing. So I did and I haven't seen Daddy cry about me again sence then.

I never cried until the 3rd year Mama was dead. I really missed her and just started to cry in my bed alone. I do that a lot. I hate showing my tears. I hate crying period. It made me feel like I wasn't strong. Like I was weak. But my friends told me to cry. I had to or else the pain wouldn't go away. It's better to cry than to keep your feelings and tears inside. So I cried when I could and needed too. They were right. I did feel better and more of the regret and pain and burdens came off my shoulders. I felt lighter.

Soon I was on my way home and I got a call from my friend Brittany. Or I thought it was Brittany. It was her older brother who called me. We talked and soon ended up talking to each other for hours. Soon we started to date or "go out" together. So far it's been two months. July 21st will make it three! It's weird. It's the longest I've been with any guy. Jacob really is something. He's a great guy. Sweet, carring, understanding, handsome, funny, everything is great about him. I love that he's tall. But part of me is sorry about me being so small. He has to bend over to kiss me and stuff! But he doesn't mind. He loves me so much he doesn't want to break up with me at all! He's attached to me like gum underneath my shoe and I just can't get him off! Jacob has been great to have as a boyfriend. Also a friend. He's shown me the way to God. Before I met him I really gave up on God. I always thought he took away Mama from me and other things away from me and was making me suffer. I was blaming God for my sins I guess you could say. But Jacob made me see that God wasn't doing anything like that. He had a reason to take my mom into Heaven. He had is reasons to make me go through this. But I'm not going through it alone. I have my friends and family with me. I got Jacob. I believe now that God sent Jacob to me to make me see that I'm no longer alone. That I'm here on this Earth for a reason. I'm loved and cared for. That He really loves me so much he sent me a wonderful angel to help me through my life. So I'm thankful I have Jacob in my life. If I didn't then I woulnd't be finding my way to God. I wanted to start my life over so I began going to church with Jacob and his Grandmother and family. Sence then I've been able to feel my mother's presence even more. I can feel her around me again. Then again, when I was at chruch and we were in the middle of praying I asked God for forgiveness and he has given it to me. I know he has. I can feel it and see it. My life is already clearing up. I'm glad. I don't know if I'd even be even more happier if I didn't start going to church with Jacob and his family. So really I thank them so much. Mostly Jacob and his Grandmother. Jacob got me to go to church and to get through the days of church. His Grandmother, she gave me the rides, she's given me a Bible so I can speak with God and read His words. She's given me a chance to spend time with her family and be with her in her time. She's made me feel like I can belong with her church. Jacob's made me feel like I belong with him and his family. I thank them both so much. If I didn't meet them I probably wouldn't be the changing girl I am. So Mrs. Mindy, Jake, if you're reading this I want to thank you both for everything you've done for me so far. You've done so much already. Thank you for making and helping me believe that I can start my life over better. Thank you.

Now. The part that I should be ok telling you all about. Yes. I went bi sexual. You want to know with who??? I went out with Heather. Yes. My best friend Heather Pierce. Yes we've kissed each other. By they way she's pretty good at that too. I know it sounds weird but hey it just happend. My heart swung over to her. We've went together for about a year. We planned to go out for about another year but she found out she was going to move so we didn't know where to go after that. I'll let you all know what happens to us later on. But Jacob did know I was bi. He didn't mind and I was glad because I loved them both so much. Always will too.

So far my life has been changing and in a good way and way that I like and wanted it to be. Daddy is happy. Patrick is happy. I'm getting there. It's hard being the older sister. You have to remember that you're showing your younger sibling(s) what to do when they get older. You've got to be careful. Make the right choices and do the right things. I know it's hard for me to be the person Patrick looks up to. I not only have to be a great romodel for him but also a parent. I'm trying to be like a mother to him in ways the best I can. He's so young that he still needs a mother. I mean I've been told I'm like a mother figure and everything so that's great. That's a great start. So I'm trying my best to be the big sis and mom for my little brother everyday. Some people can tell that by how protective I am of Patrick. Some haven't seen my protective side but soon they probably will. Eventually. I hope that when Patrick gets older that he'll become a great man. He'll be tall and great for the girls. But most of all that he'll become a wonderful person and guy and father like Daddy is. Daddy is a wonderful Daddy. The best. Patrick, I have really high hopes and prayers for him to become a very great resective person. Not only to others but to God as well. I hope that he'll see that he's got everything he needs inside his heart and mind. Not things that others have. I hope he'll choose the right path that he'll want to go down. I know that he'll get throug life. Even without me he'll be able to do it. I believe in my baby brother with all my heart. I love him and Daddy with all my heart. I wouldn't trade them for anything. Never in my life would I do a thing like that.

After you all read this I hope you'll understand better about what I've been going through. The pain, suffering, hurt, regret, parenting, growing up, everything. I hope you all will see that I'm trying hard to change. That I'm wanting to become a great and better person. That I want to live long. My dreams are not for me but for my family. I pray to God for my brother and Daddy to be safe. To be happy. To live a long life. To be able to walk on the feet God has given them. To do things they live and enjoy doing. I pray for my whole family to come together as a family and share love for each other. To live a long happy lives with their wives and husbands and families. I pray for my mother who's in heaven to just look down on me and help me through my days along with God and my grandparents who are with Him and her. I pray that I will become a wonderful woman my mother was. A wonderful mother like she was. I pray for my brother to become a wonder Daddy like ours is right now and has been. I pray for the best for my family. My friends. Mostly for them. Not just myself. I pray for a few things for myself but I know that I already have everything I need. All I need is knowlege and support and love and care for a while longer. Then I'll be complete for the time being. But those things, I pray for everyday and always will and for the rest of my life.

Thank you all for everything you've done for me. These past three years have been tough. I don't know what I'd do without you all if I didn't have the friends and family I have now. I'd probably be in the pits of hell. Who knows. I'm thankful for you all too. I pray for you all to have the best until your life is over and you all go live with God Himself. I hope that I've told you everything about my past life so far. Thank you all so much for everything. I love you all. And I thank God. Thank you.