Dear Lana,

*** Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide of a loved one. ***

Lana Booker-Yang was only five when she had perfected the most amazing grilled cheese sandwich recipe. Since her parents spent most of their days arguing over little things, Lana needed to learn to be independent. As bad as life was for Lana, things only seemed to get worse. With Lana's dad "missing" after promising his return, Lana's mom still stuck on Lee's passing, her life was a wreck.

Lana and Lee were close growing up. Considering their parents were always bitter after an argument, they had no one to lean on but each other.

"Why Lee, why?" she thought. "How could you leave me like this... How could you leave us like this?" How Lana hated to ask for help. The thought of it made her want to vomit.

Lana's mom, Chan suffered serious depression. It had been hard on her and her daughter. She was typically hopping from job to job, missing countless days of work, and barely making ends meet.

Lana wasn't exactly the brightest kid; she couldn't just get a scholarship and go to college like everyone else. Since Lana was so prideful, she never looked into student loans. Loans are for losers Lana continuously thought. Lana looked into different jobs; unfortunately, her anger issues and stubborn heart never allowed her to keep one.

In the bedroom Lana and Chan shared, she visualized the thing that she had wanted most; to be a freelance artist. Paintings, murals, and portraits were the light of her life. She pictured a spacious art studio filled with brushes, paints, and clays that she envies when walking past the art store. When she channeled her anger into art, it created something beautiful. Lana knew it was the one thing she was born to do. She also knew that she could never afford high-quality art supplies living off her mom's spare change. Just like Lana never received anything she ever wanted, she knew this was no exception.

The mere thought of that caused a fiery tear to shed down her eye. She opened the little black notebook her therapist gave her. Her therapist, a small, beautiful Afro-Asian (similar to Lana,) was the only person Lana spoke to about her feelings. Mainly because they had so many things in common; also because Lana wanted her mental health to get better and, she knew talking to a professional was the only way to fix it. She had told Lana to write down exactly how she feels whenever she begins to cry.

Entry 327:

Today I cried.

A little.

Not a lot.

I cried because I’m mad. I’m mad because-

She paused, raising her pencil from the paper. I’m mad because…? I don’t know. Well, that’s not true. She wrote again:

I’m mad because

I've been mad for a long ti-

Lana groaned. Why would Lee kill himself? It’s so selfish of him! In the heat of the moment, she thought, He left to get away from her. "I hate myself. She whispered to herself. Tears fell on the black book. "I hate myself. I hate myself! I can't do anything!" She screamed and threw her pencil across the room. She stormed out and raced into the kitchen.

"Chan?... Where are you, Chan?" she screamed with fury in her voice. Lana dashed through every room in the house until she found her mom lying in bed.

"Get up, Chan, and go buy me some food, now!"

"I already told you to stop calling me Chan. I am your mother. You will respect me and stop acting like I never taught-"

"I'm starving, I haven't eaten since yesterday, and I ran out of money."

"Take this." Lana's mom handed her a few crumpled bucks stuffed inside her pants.

"What am I supposed to do with four dollars and some pocket lint" Lana paused, "You know what, whatever, I'll figure it out on my own,” Lana said heading for the door, “just like I always do." The room fell silent. Finally, Lana calmed herself and asked, "Chan, why are you always in here."

Lana's mom sat with her thoughts for a moment and spoke softly, "Lana, it's hard letting go of the past." She joked, attempting to lighten the mood, "Ya' know, this was your brother's room, right?"

Lana let out a light chuckle. "Really, I hadn't noticed," she said sarcastically.

Lana felt comfortable talking about Lee, which was something she hadn't felt like in a long time.

The two women exchanged smiles. . ...

Lana hummed as she walked the neighborhood from the dollar tree.

"What's up, Lana? Lookin' beautiful today,'' James winked at her.

"Never gonna happen," replied Lana.

James was the childish mailman for several years and had developed an admiration for Lana.

"Whatever you say," he said with an awkward smirk. "You've got mail today."

"I do? From who?" Lana arched a brow.

"I don't know. There's no return address."

"Let me see," as she took the mysterious piece of mail from his hand.

She read the outside. No, return address. She ripped it open.

"What's it say?" James begged.

Lana quickly folded the paper and crammed it into her pocket, "Uhh, I gotta go."

"That important, huh? Tell me tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she called as she ran inside. "Sure, whatever."

Lana sat in the kitchen, hands shaking. She wondered if she really read what she just did.

Dear Lana,

I was uncertain of how to start this letter. I want to apologize for how I left things. The longer I waited to write this, the harder I knew it would be to write. I realized I should not let overthinking it petrify me.

I hope your mother and brother are doing well. I know that you have grown to be a fine young lady. Hopefully, you kids have not given your mom too many gray hairs!

As for me, I live in the beautiful city of Paris and study Engineering. Every night I get to enjoy a lovely sunset with my wife and son. Oh man, he is one reckless kid! He reminds me of you, a natural-born leader.

A strong independent woman like you will do great things when you get older. I believe in you. With that said, I got you something.

Now, don't blow all of it in one place. Twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money but, it can be spent rather quickly. I know that you have big dreams and that this may be a jump start to those desires. I hope you can accept this donation because you deserve it and much more.

Sleep soundly tonight and every night that follows. Always remember that your dad loves you dearly.

Love Dad.

...

Three years later

Lana and Chan were still adding the finishing touches to the studio. "And...." Lana hung up the final painting on her wall. "Done!"

"And it looks amazing, babe."

"Hi James, when did you come? Lana's mom suspected

"I've been upstairs cleaning our room. You oughta' keep your stuff inside of the drawers and off of my side of the bed," James snickered.

Lana was still in mid-thought of a comeback when "Knock, Knock."

"Were open," Lana responded.

Creaky footsteps got closer and closer.

"Hey Lana, these are for you," the figure handed her a bountiful bouquet.

"What are these for?" As she gave the person a big hug.

"For the grand opening, ya know, I'm so proud of you." The voice returned

"Thanks! I can't believe it. I always had my doubts but, I'm so glad I'm where I am now, Dad."