Alright; let me tell you this as short as possible. It all took place in a small town in Dakota. It was warm, calm, and peaceful. Trust me, no one expected this to ever happen, but somehow; it did. And you were there.
One simple mistake can cost you a lot, but I am not blaming you for what happen. But, on the other hand, you can’t use the same excuses you use to keep yourself alive. Oh yeah; did I mention? I saw you doing what you did and I will never bring that topic up. I just want you to see what you did through a witness’ eyes. I know you feel terrible, but I hope this is a harsh lesson you will learn from. Well, here goes nothing…

Her hat lied so softly on her head and did not shift an inch as if it was imprinted here her scalp. This little hat was as brown as the ground she enhances. The flaps curve up to frame her little red head. The brim is folded so nicely behind her head that even with its many flaws; she made it beautiful.
There is a story behind that little thing and she lives it every day. Her father was a farmer and a very good one at that and when he met her mom; he dropped his living to go with her. He loved this woman that he was willing to do whatever he could to keep her with him, but that wasn’t enough. His wife gave birth to a healthy nine once baby girl and it was the happiest moment of his life. He looked the doctor dead in the eyes and all he saw was sorrow. His wife died giving birth to his baby girl. The last thing he had to give to her was a deep-rooted, brown hat. This was the first gift he gave to his wife. From that day, she refused to take it off; even as an infant.
Her peers laughed at her every day because she wore that ugly thing and I just sat back and watched. You sat and laughed too; even if you were three grades older than her. You hated her because of me and in a way; I feel this was my fault. I’m sorry your feelings for me fueled your actions. I wish I could change them, but that doesn’t fix the fact that you did them. This leads to March 24, 2005; our 8th grade year and her 5th grade year.
It was so soft, so beautiful that day and she was just drawing a little flower on a park bench. To mess with her, you ripped the hat off her tiny head as she reaches for it. She screams after you as you run off school property and down by Fifth Street. You laughed as a joke, but she saw it as a cruel, cruel action. You crossed that gravel road and you managed to cross before that suburban did; she didn’t. It ended in silence and the sketching of the tires. I look at your face. It was pale, disgusted, sad, and disappointed. You knew what you did and you drop to your knees. The next you saw little Mary-Anne; was in a casket.
Hi, Brad. It’s Avery Jones; Mary-Anne’s adopted-sister. We have three classes together and you’ve had a crush on me since the fourth grade, but I’ve only seen you as another boy starring. You are a very sweet guy and I am sorry I made you feel that rage, but why my sister? All she wanted was her hat and your rage drove her to death. It wasn’t your fault and I understand, but don’t hurt yourself because of Mary-Anne.
Look at it the way I do, she wore that thing because that was her mother. She felt you were taking away her mother away from her and that’s why she ran. Now, she got her wish; she is with her true mother up in Heaven. You were never a bad kid, Brad and to prove it, you showed up to the Vigil Service and put the hat back on her head. That took so much heart and sorrow and it proved to me you were truly sorry and I thank you for that. You did all you could to fix your wrong, but you’re missing a gap in your mistake. Stop hurting yourself; she never would have wanted you too. Pull yourself through and I will be there for you. All you have to do is let me.

Your friend,
Avery