My Best Friends Story; Most Inspiring Response to New Moon
This is my best friends view on New Moon.
1. Her Story
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1328 Review this Chapter
Hello Twilight Fans.
I was hoping, just hoping that you will read this and reply, i would love for this to be spread and somehow reach Stephenie.
I did not write this, it was written by my best friend. She didnt know how to get it to Stephenie, so she didnt bother to try. I read it and cried myself. I couldnt believe it. So if you could just please read it and pass it around, i would be sooo grateful, that you have no idea. Its inspiring, and i believe that she would love to read it.
Im sorry, she does not want to give out names, due to reasons i do not understand, but i will respect that, and i hope you do too.
And again, please, please read the attached file.
The letter is in below.
"Dear Stephenie Meyer,
I guess writing this would be pointless, considering the chances of you actually getting it don’t look good, but I thought maybe it would somehow. So here it goes. You have written the best books I have literally ever read. Twilight was absolutely amazing, and so was Eclipse. As for New Moon, that’s the subject of this letter. You see, New Moon was very, very, very inspiring to me. I felt as if I connected with Bella. I didn’t understand why at first that I felt like I connected so well with the feelings portrayed in the book because the reason was subject that I block from my mind, and after I figured it out it became something very obvious. All throughout New moon I was crying. When Edward took Bella into the woods, I was balling, literally. I kept crying all up to when she found the motorcycles. Then when she was with Jacob Black on the motorcycles and heard Edwards voice, I cried again. Every time she heard his voice, I cried. Then in the meadow, I cried just as hard at when they were in the woods, maybe harder. When I reached the part where she was about to be kill by Laurent and she said, “Edward, Edward, Edward. Edward I love you.” I slammed the book down. I had been lying in bed and it was about 11:30 PM. I remembering curling up on my side and thinking, thinking hard, about why I had reacted that way. When I placed the book on my desk a picture had fallen off of it, the picture though, had been placed behind others. Then I realized it was my father. It was obvious, and I started crying all over again.
My father, my hero, my best friend, the most amazing person (in my eyes) that had ever walked the earth, died in a car crash on November 7th, 2006. I was fourteen. The bond I had with my father was unbreakable. You would think a teenager would shy away from their dads, but not me. I was known to choose to spend the day fishing with by dad, rather than going to movies with my friends. My dad was my own personal superman, and believe it or not, I told him everything. He was the one person I knew I could trust for as long as I lived. That’s why it killed me inside when he passed away. I remember crying in hysterics for hours. I missed two weeks of school and I just stayed in my room, crying. My mother was afraid I would become suicidal, but I could never do that to her. After about two months, the crying slowed. It did not stop, but at night it would never be as bad. I went back to school, but I never did much, just like Bella. It’s like I was there without actually being there. One thing different then Bella though, is my grades suffered as a result rather than became better, which didn’t help. My mother became scared, and she said I had to get out of the house and live again. I couldn’t. In between November 7th and August 19th, 2007, I had thrown away over 120 movies. Besides fishing, that was my fathers favorite pass time. We would sit for hours and watch movies. His favorite, School of Rock, was literally broken to pieces. I spent 10 months wallowing over my father. Even threw my birthday.
On August 19th 2007, I was finally able to breathe again. My mom forced me to go to my uncles’ house for the day, claiming it would do me good. I just sat there, and smiled as best as I could. My cousin, who was sixteen then (currently seventeen), was like a brother to me. I was an only child so he was as close as it got. He had watched me suffer from the beginning. When it first happened he would always be there, letting my cry in his arms. I was thankful, and I had said that before, but only once since the memory hurt. At the party he walked up to me and pulled me gently from the couch. He scrutinized my face for a minute and pulled me into the other room and shut the door. He stood in front of me with his hands on my shoulders, his eyes fierce and serious. I was startled when he yelled, “Listen to me! This has got to stop.” He didn’t need to say much for me to break down. I remember the tears pouring over and me sliding to the ground. We sat against the wall for three hours, and he waiting patiently. When I finally calmed he started, “I know,” he said in the softest tone imaginable, “I know, and understand completely why you feel the way you do, but honestly, is this what your father would have wanted? Would he want you wasting almost a year crying over what happened? Would he want you hurting your mother, your family, yourself? No. He would want you living your life, and doing the things you love. He would want you to go fishing and watch the movies you use to love. He would never, ever of wanted this for you, and you know that. It may not be like it was, trying to live without him, but damnit, you have to try, and actually try! Its how he would have wanted it, it’s how it would have been if her were here. Just because he isn’t here in the flesh, doesn’t mean he isn’t with you. As long as you want him to be, he always will. Don’t forget that.” I sat stared in shock, but a slow smile broke across my face. He smiled back, “Now promise me, promise your father that you will try.” I promised.
I had remembered every word exactly that he said. It was a huge eye opener for me, and although I still cried at night for a month, I got through it. I don’t forget him and I know I never will, but I faced the fear, the fear of me remembering. While reading New Moon, I felt the pains Bella had. I knew how it felt to lose your meaning of existence. I could feel every pain Bella had, and I knew that’s why I was reacting the way I did. Thank you Stephenie, for writing the one book that has ever, ever touched my heart, and for that I am eternally grateful. I just wish that I would have read this book last year, because it would have pulled me through. I know it. Today it is May 29th, 2008. I am sixteen years old, two years after the death of my father. I again, thank you, so much, more than you can possibly ever know.
I love you Stephenie Meyer for writing the first book that I have ever related to.
I love you dad, for being my superman.
Thank You, so much.