Dear Phoebe,
How are you these days? I canít believe that itís been almost 9 years since that night we shared. I asked D.B. if I could live with him for a while, I needed to get away from everything. He came to New York to get me. I stayed at his place for a while but I left after three weeks because I sensed that I was just getting in D.B.ís way. Iím sorry I couldnít take you with me, but you would have been bored with everything I went through. Before I left, D.B. asked if something was wrong. I didnít want to tell my older brother that I broke down and cried because I couldnít get over my younger brotherís death. He told me that he was sure something was wrong and took me to a psychiatrist. At first I thought I would do better but after a week, I told myself not to go to this shrink anymore because I was okay.
I was alone for nine years, nine years of working as a patient assistant at the Los Angeles Leukemia Childrenís Hospital. I can finally put everything behind me. I donít know where I got the guts to write this letter to you because of the fact that mom or dad could have picked this up and read it.
The pain Allie left me when he died is now filled with the smiles and the opportunity to talk to the kids who are about to die he same way Allie did. Iíve changed a lot. I drink coffee at a cafť and I sit for hours talking about life with the people who work in the hospital. Oh yeah! While I was with D.B., he took me to some party. Some night called the Academy Awards. People in some nice looking clothes were handing out awards for movies. I still canít get over movies! I canít believe that I gave up. I am now a true phony myself. Iím a sell out and a prostitute. Although Iíve failed myself, I think Allie is smiling down on me right now. I also got a girlfriend. Her name is Janet Geller. That name sounds familiar, doesnít it? I make a lot of dough and I hope to see you again. Allie would be smiling down at me, hmmph! Thatís odd isnít it?
The one reason I wrote this letter to you was because I still canít get over Allie. Phoebe, what is wrong with me? Why canít I get him out of my head? Why canít I just go on with my life? Allie left a big hole and all the money in the world doesnít seem to fill that hole up. Janet canít fill that hole up and the fact that weíve been away from each other, you canít fill that whole up either.
I donít know what to do with my life anymore. I donít think I want to live anymore. Suicide? I never thought of myself thinking about that, but I canít cope with life anymore. I try to tell myself before I go to sleep that the next day will be better and I ask myself Alley? Whoís Allie? That never seems to work. Whenever I am with Janet, I just see you and my need to have family around me. I think thatís what I need. I need someone. I need Allie.
So how are you? Is school good? Are you thinking about college? How are mom and dad? Iím a crazy fool to write this letter to you. Phoebe! Help me! I think Iím gonna kill myself! I am going mad! Sorry Phoebe, tell mom and dad I love them. I cant live anymore. Iím going mad!
Holden Caufield