The old house is just as I remembered it. I carefully step over the caved in wood in front of the front door that Papa was supposed to fix but never did. Sleeping in the worn in green recliner is a small black schnauzer. I run a hand over the curly fur on his  chest and he twitches slightly but doesn't wake. I walk into the kitchen, the floor creaking under my feet but I’m not worried. The clock on the stove reads 3:27 AM, so I know everyone is sleeping. The hallway to my bedroom is short and the walls are covered in drawings and scribbles and horizontal lines up and down labled with names and heights. At the end of the hall is a brown door and there’s a long chip in the wood from midway to the top. I don’t let myself hesitate and open it.
An infomercial drones on the TV and I shake my head and turn it off. A fat, gray calico cat is curled up on the bottom of the bed and she lifts her head and peers at me as I walk by. I shush her and give her a couple of scratches behind the ear where she likes best and I know I’m forgiven. I sit on the edge of the bed carefully and just look. The girl sleeping in it turned 14 a couple hours ago just as I turned 75. Her dark hair is falling into her face and a tangled chunk of it is stuck to her parted lips. Her expression is peaceful with sleep. She’s beautiful. There’s so much I want to say to her.  I don’t wake her though. Instead I smooth the hair away from her face and move to the desk in the corner of the room where I spent so many nights. Already there’s an open notebook and I feel irrationally guilty about reading the words she had written even though they were mine once too. As my fingertips trace over the melancholic words I get a feeling of nostalgia, but don’t read any further and just turn the page. I look back at her sleeping form and she mumbles something unintelligible and I smile. Then, I begin to write.
Dear Olive,
  It’s been a long time since I last saw you. You don’t know me yet but one day you’ll understand why I came. Until then there’s a few things you should know. First, you’re beautiful. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. You have a soul brighter than the sun and even though you might not see it’s obvious to everyone around you.
Second, you are going to be OK. A lot of big things are happening for you, and you don’t need to be scared. High school isn’t as bad as it sounds and you’re going to get through it just fine.
Forgive your mom. She makes mistakes but she loves you more than anything. Also, be nice to your sister. She’s going to be feeling the same things you are and she’s going to need you to lean on.
Oh, and don’t worry, other girls like girls too. You’re not weird or wrong, and you’ll learn to love that part of yourself the most.
Lastly, hang in there because things get a whole lot better. You learn to love life and in return you are so loved. Be strong and even when your world looks like it’s ending just know that you’ll survive. You can do it.
Love, yourself.
P.S. even when you don’t want to, draw. You’ll fall out of a lot of things but art is something you’ll never lose.
 
I set the pen down and close the notebook. My next breath is shaky and I stand. The calico purrs at me as I walk by and I give her another scratch. I trail my hand down the messy walls as I walk down the hall. The dog is still sleeping in the recliner and I stop and look around the room. I don’t linger as I whisper my goodbyes. The house is quiet and familiar, but I don’t look back as I step over the hole in the floor and walk out the door.