Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: BOOK(S) - Begins January 4 / Ends January 11 (01/04/18)
- TITLE: Dear Liz
By Amy Gaudette
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Day 187. What will it be today? Another dreary day where death is more appealing than the desolate existence that awaits me? Another 60 seconds of every minute, 60 minutes of every hour, 24 hours of every day that painfully remind me I have been forgotten by my best friend, closest ally, and kindred spirit? I had dreams, too. How could you, Liz? Abandoning me at a time where I needed you most, leaving me groveling in the midst of my own broken dreams which lay like carnage at my feet.
Liz, you know me better than anyone. We had something special. Stardust sprinkled blessings on everything we did together. You and I were unbeatable. We were going somewhere, making a difference, saving the world!
What happened to you? I thought we were closer than sugar and spice, apple pie and vanilla ice cream. You were the melody and I, your harmony. Yet, here I am still living in the moment of that mind-numbing day you just left. Poof! Gone.
You shut me out. I had done everything you asked or wanted before I became nothing but a fleeting image speeding past in your rear-view mirror. Was I that temporal to you? A mere character in some hologram where you can say end program, and walk away from?
Who saved the hero in One Last Gumdrop? Me. Did I take any credit for that? No. But it was all my idea, wasn't it?
And not to get too personal, but who saved you from the evil professor that you fell in love with, blindly, I might add? Me. I figured out what skeletons were in his closet, and spared you a life of misery or worse. Me!
Liz, do you remember where you left me? Chapter 15, page 135. Yes, I was masquerading as a janitor in the bathroom of the Hilton, on the 8th floor, eavesdropping on a phone call made by your infamous Uncle Al. Did you know he is about to steal your family fortune? NO. You don't. Why? Because for the past 187 days I have been stuck in this stinky, cold, damp bathroom while you live your life somewhere without me. Where are you? Have no feelings, no empathy left for me?
Liz, take the manuscript, dust it off, set yourself down and for pity's sake, if not for mine. . . finish the book!
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