Dear Jacob,
By the time you read this, you will have already known what happened to me, and so will everybody else. Because word travels fast in a town so small. That's why everyone knew everything about me…everybody knew my story. Or they thought they did. So everyone will be asking why I did what I did. And everyone will think they know the answer.
She did it because of Sam, of course! She didn't want to see him anymore!
That's part of it, I will admit, but a very, very small part. Jacob Black, I'm going to tell you why. The truth, from me, Leah Madison Clearwater, right here, right now. I'll put my signature in my own handwriting at the bottom to prove it. You're going to receive a few letters over the course of several days. You'll find them in different places, and it's up to you to figure out whom to get the letter from. I will tell you that there are 10 letters in total, but I will tell you that the person who gives it to you is one of the reasons why. Not all the reasons are bad ones. Not one of the people knows what's inside each letter. They were given specific instructions not to open them. Just a heads up, some of these letters will be hard to find. Others will be right in front of your face.
Do what you want with the letters. You can read them, or maybe you won't- you'll never even look for them. You could throw them in the trash, and forget about it, and I would never know. Or maybe I will, I'm not sure. Just letting you know that if you do decide to throw this away, my death will be a mystery, and slowly…it won't happen tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even next month, but eventually, it will happen. You'll start to wonder. You'll start to care. And that that curiosity will grow to pain. Excruciating pain. I know from experience. No one will ever know the true reason and/or motive behind what I did. And I can think of a small list of people who would care about why I did.
I'm not actually sure what the right thing to do is. Not telling you, well, that could be hard…for me at least. I had to let someone know. Someone had to know why I had to end my life. Someone had to be able to tell my mother, and I couldn't bring up the strength to write a letter to her directly, and you are the only other person I could really trust with this information. Still, it's out of my control what you do with it. But telling you, it's going to be hard for you, and whoever else reads the letters, if you show them around. I'm sorry for that. But if you want the truth, you're going to have to suffer just a little. But trust me; the pain you'll feel is nothing. Nothing can compare to the pain I was feeling. The pain I had to end before it could get any worse.
Writing these letters was harder than I expected. I cried-more like sobbed- while writing every single one. It took me only six hours in my room to write them, but it took much longer to muster up the strength to give them to the ten people that you are going to have to see to get the letter from. My only motivation was that I had to pass the letters out before I killed myself. And I couldn't wait for that.
So the choice is up to you, Jacob. I trust you to do the right thing. Don't let me down.
Love,
Leah Clearwater