I could have died.
In eighth grade.
Why didn’t I?
Why did that girl have to find me.
I could have been gone off the face of the earth.
And no one would have cared.
I starved myself to death almost.
I was so weak and fragile.
I could barely walk.
I could barely hold my pencil.
I didn’t want to go on.
I was so sick.
But for some reason, that girl had to find me.
And I had to get help.
Why?
I’ll never know.