By Maryn Ascher
How do you send dead people letters?
Maybe if I throw them to the wind, the pages will flutter away in a swirling breeze. Maybe they will float high above the clouds and into the beyond, to land eventually between your fingertips. But my letters might just miss the sky. They could get stuck to a pole, a bus, or get soaked to the concrete by the rain. Could you still read them then?
Maybe if I close my eyes and just think hard enough, there’s a chance you will be able to hear me. I’ll write my letters on the paper of my light blue journal, softly repeating them within the depths of my brain. Then perhaps you can send me an answer so strong that I’ll hear it reverberating through my mind. I’d never have to worry about who to call, who will say the right thing. Never another night of whispers in my head, “I guess I’m gonna be alone tonight.” Never alone with my thoughts, worried that I’m a burden because I don’t know how to help myself with my own issues.
Perhaps none of this is true. Perhaps my letters dance in the sky, but they do not know where you are. The words I write cannot break through the walls of my mind.
Maybe I was too dependent on you. Maybe I thought that you always had the right answers, and maybe now that you cannot give them to me, there are no right answers.
Maybe I can’t send dead people letters.
Maryn Ascher (she/her) ‘26 is a junior studying forensic science and anthropology. She is involved in many orgs on campus including Delta Phi Epsilon, First Year Players, and Jerk Magazine. She has been writing creative pieces for as long as she can remember and is excited for the Honors community to see her work about her personal experiences!
