I can't be losing sleep over this, no I can't
And now I can not stop pacing
Give me a few hours, I'll have all this sorted out
If my mind would just stop racing
Bianca paced nervously, staring at the package in her hands. She stared down at the brown paper, tracing the sloppy handwriting with her fingers. It had been a week since she'd gotten the package at the hospital, and she thought she might actually get around to opening it now.
Cause I cannot stand still
I can't be this unsturdy
This cannot be happening
Sighing heavily as she sat down on her bed, she took a deep breath as she turned the package over, slipping her finger under the fold and gently prying the paper off of it. A letter fell into her lap, and in her hands was an old, yellow book. Emblazoned across the front was:
William Shakespeare
The Sonnets
Poems of Love
A tear ran down her cheek as she ran her fingers over the words. She set the book down on the bed beside her and stood up, looking at the letter. Resuming her pacing, she opened it with shaking hands. She heard Frankie's voice as she read the words, her vision blurring from the tears in her eyes.
Dear Bianca,
I hope that where I'm going, I will stop hurting people. In movies, people say, "I never meant to hurt you." I can't say that. I did mean to, I planned to. But I don't like that part of me anymore. But there is something I want you to hear, and I would do anything, anything if I could make you believe it: I never fooled you. You always knew the real me, even when I want- even when I didn't want anyone to know. When I didn't even want to know myself. You never responded to a lie, only when the truth happened to slip out. You never did anything stupid, you never let yourself be used, and the person who ended up completely changed was me, not you. I did things, things to convince myself you weren't changing me and my life. I did drugs, I went with that boy to fool myself into thinking I was in control, that I was who I said I was. In truth, all I really wanted was to be happy, with you. I love you. I wish I could have been strong, when we were together, as strong as you always were. Please don't let me change who you are. Your mother was right about me, but she was completely wrong about you.
Love Always,
Mary Frances
P.S. I hope you will read these sonnets and think of me.
She choked back a sob as she folded the letter again. Her tears ran faster and faster, the ache in her heart growing even more unbearable. Emotions were flooding through her, the grief she felt over Frankie's death finally becoming free. She'd pushed it down, covered it with the resentment and bitterness she felt about the last time she had seen the girl alive. She'd tried to hate her for what she'd done, but this letter made it impossible. Her heart was both filled with familiar love for the dead girl, and empty with anguish over not having a chance to forgive her.
She looked at the signature again. Mary Frances, She thought. She hated that name. Sobs wracked her body as the thought hit home. Frankie had really loved her, with all of her heart. Even when she had hurt Bianca, Frankie had made sure that she knew it wasn't her fault. She never even realized what a kind and giving person she was.
This is over my head but underneath my feet
Cuz by tomorrow morning I'll have this thing beat
And everything will be back to the way that it was
I wish that it was just that easy
The brunette collapsed onto her bed, grief overwhelming her. She thought of Frankie lying on the floor, dying, with no one there with her. Her heart ached for the girl, whose life had just begun, who had such a great future ahead of her.
Sobbing, she curled up into the fetal position, holding the letter tightly to her chest. Slowly her sobs subsided as she succumbed to sleep.
Cuz I'm wating for tonight
Then waiting for tomorrow
And I'm somewhere in between
What is real, and just a dream
