May 9, 1982

Imagine you were going on a trip. A really, really long trip. You had no idea where you were going, but you knew that you needed to walk, and that you'd be miserable if you didn't. That's exactly what's happening to me right now. But what happened first?

I'm seventeen years old, and I've lived a decent life. I've got a kind and funny brother who always brightens my day, and a sister who is the epitome of a best friend. And, I have parents. They're divorced, but they're still friends. And that's good enough for me.

But soon the hurricane hit. I remember the day exactly. Driving to the hospital. Desperately walking back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for the results. The doctor coming in. A bald white man, with black rimmed glasses, slowly walking in to talk to us. And hearing the heartbreaking words, “I'm sorry, but your daughter has cancer.”

The depressed feeling my family had on that week. But I couldn’t take it anymore. I hated feeling that way. Hearing quiet cries from my mother. And going to my little sisters room every day, and seeing the pained smile on her face. She kept saying, “I'm gonna be okay. Don't worry.”

How in the world was I not supposed to worry? A nine year old girl has a tumor in her brain. This is the worst. I didn't want to do it. But I did it. And I don't regret it.

That night. Walking to the hospital. Slipping the note in between my sister's hands. Kissing her on the forehead. And leaving. Grabbing the basics. Like food to spare me for a while. Water. Toilet paper. A paper and pen. Clothes to stand the weather. Oh, and a compass. All that I needed for a walk.

After sneaking out of the house. I felt a weird feeling of satisfaction, and relief. It was the first bit of being calm I had felt in a while. And it felt great. Smelling the fresh air, and seeing the wonderful valleys and hills around me. Reminding me of the walks I took with my dad. It still feels the same.

Walking. Walking. Walking. Taking a break. Walking again. Doing that for a while, until I knew I had to go back. It had been two days. As I started going back on the trail, all of a sudden I heard shouting. “MARLEY. MARLEY.” It must have been my brother. At least I knew he was close.

After finally getting back, my parents weren't exactly happy. But they understood. Every time I get angry or depressed, I always walk. It’s my sort of, therapy. And it always works. But that was the longest I had been gone, ever. And once I got back, I started running toward the hospital. Getting to my sister's room. She wasn’t there.

The fear. That feeling. The worst in the world. But, there was a note. “Marley. I hope you feel better. And it's okay. I'm not gone. I'm right here. I always will be. I was sick. Too sick. But I'll be okay. I love you! - Ellie.” I could imagine the way she wrote it. Sitting there, with her glitter pen. Writing with her neat handwriting and the same weak smile on her face. Just like me, except her eyes weren't watered. Too sweet of a girl. Too young. Too innocent. My family right behind me. Asking if I was okay. I was. I just wish I could see her again. Just one more time.

May 9, 2022

Haven’t wrote here in awhile. It’s been about sixty years. Just found this in my garage. What has happened? Well, I’m an author now. Have made three award winning books, and starting my forth. But, I’ve done something far greater than writing. I found a cure. I never stopped thinking about Ellie. Ever. And by 1983, I got into a good college. And worked my hardest with professionals to get an answer. And we did it. Cancer has a cure. There is no words to explain how happy I felt on that day. Tears of joy. The way I feel to think no more little girls are gonna experience what Ellie did. I’ll never get to see her again. But, at least I know she’s at peace. That’s all I needed to find mine. I think I’ll go for a walk.