"Memories are all we have,
When the world has nothing left."
 
Memories are all I have left, aren’t they? It’s a good thing you left me with so many. I just can’t believe you’re gone. All the music, the talks, the shows, the times. They’re still here, in my head. But it’s hard to think that it will never happen again. You were the one who got me into DJing, do you remember? It was my 14th birthday, you gave me your old equipment. It was the greatest gift I had ever gotten.
The memories you left me are some of the best in my life. Hell, you were the best thing in my life. Do you remember back in high school, you were a grade higher? I was a sophomore, you a junior. It was the winter arts festival. You and I had been working on the “Greatest set ever” for the concert at the end, you remember? I showed up late, and I was so angry at myself for not making it in time. Then I saw you up on stage, doing the performance yourself. You had the whole gym moving, jumping and laughing. I almost died of admiration right there. I couldn’t be more proud to have you as a sister.
I’d like to take this time to tell you that this letter has no rhyme or reason. There is no flow, so it may sound choppy, but hey, that’s just how you liked it, right?
All kidding aside, there is so much I could talk about. It shouldn’t take a million memories to know that you were the greatest person in my life, and you always will be. Hell, I would proudly say that in front of our sisters. Sidney is a hick and Ella is a bitch. I hope that made you laugh, it always did.
I don’t want you to finish this letter thinking, “Aw, how sweet.” I want you to finish this and take its base value from it. I love you. A thousand times, a million times, I love you. Those three simple words hold so much meaning. Yeah, I know you hate them too, you think that modern music and society has stretched the meaning out of them so far that there’s nothing left but empty vowels. But no matter what you think the meaning is, the phrase ‘I love you’ will always be true of you from me.
I love you, Amanda, and whether you be in heaven or hell, or somewhere in between, you’d better wait for me. You promised, didn’t you? Yes, you did. I can still remember the conversation about what we would do if we didn’t die together. We agreed to wait for one another. Then we hugged. How bitter sweet.
Amanda. I love you, girl. Nothing in this world I loved more.
I’m coming, sis.
Just as soon as I grab the world by the balls and make it my musical bitch.
Just like you told me to.
I love you.
 
Amanda Almond Scraton, 1993-2014