Sadie

The Echoes of a Lost Voice

Dear Stranger, I guess that's what you are to me. A blank face among a sea of faces that I've never seen.

But I hope by the end of this letter, you'll feel like you know me, at least a little bit. I'm Sadie Hunter, and I've lived a life that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

It's a life that's been filled with cracks and crevices, ones that I've stumbled into, again and again, trying to find something that was taken from me. My sister, Mattie, she was my world, and when she was ripped out of it, I was left spinning.

I learned to navigate this relentless current of loss and pain, not to conquer it, but to coexist with it. And maybe, just maybe, you're fighting your own currents too.

I've been through towns that have names that feel like they're made up on the spot, talked to people who looked right through me, like I was just another part of the scenery. I've felt the sting of being invisible and the crush of being too visible, all at once.

It's a strange thing, to want to be seen, yet to want to hide away where no one can find you, all at the same time. But as I've come to learn, we all have our contradictions.

And it's in those contradictions that we find our true selves, isn't it? As I trace the outline of my sister's absence, I'm reminded of the fragility of life. We're all just a breath away from being a memory, and that thought terrifies me.

It terrifies me because I know how easily memories fade, how the sound of a voice you thought you'd never forget can become distant, like an echo in a vast canyon. I want to hold onto Mattie's echo, keep it close, but I'm learning that sometimes holding on too tightly is like trying to grasp water.

It slips through your fingers, no matter how hard you try.

The Map of Scars

Scars are the roadmap of our personal history, each one a coordinate to a moment in time that left its mark. My skin is littered with them, and I used to feel the need to hide these blemishes from the world.

But I've come to understand that these scars tell a story – my story. And I won't apologize for that anymore.

You've got your own scars, I'm sure. Some may be visible, a raised line here, a discoloration there, while others are hidden deep within, where no one else can see.

But they're there, and they're a part of you, just like mine are a part of me. Each scar is a testament to our endurance, a silent proclamation that we've faced something that tried to break us, and yet, here we are.

We're still standing, still breathing, still moving forward. I used to think that being strong meant not having scars, but now I know it's the opposite.

It's the scars that make us strong. They're proof that we can heal, that we can survive, that we can get back up and keep going, even when every part of us screams to give up.

And believe me, there have been times when I wanted to give up. Times when the weight of my sister's absence felt like a boulder strapped to my back, dragging me down into the depths of despair.

But I didn't. I kept going.

And you can keep going too. No matter how heavy your boulder feels, remember that it's possible to keep moving.

One step at a time, one breath at a time, one day at a time.

The Whispers of Truth

In my search for answers, I've learned that truth has a voice. It's not always loud or clear, and most times, it's buried under layers of lies and deceit.

But if you listen closely, you can hear it. A whisper, a hushed tone in the back of your mind, guiding you towards what's real.

I've chased those whispers, followed them down dark alleys and into the light of day, in hopes of finding something that would lead me back to Mattie, or at least to the truth of what happened to her. It's a strange thing, chasing whispers.

They lead you to unexpected places, to people you never thought you'd meet, to parts of yourself you never knew existed. They've led me to confront my own shadows, to look at them straight on and acknowledge their presence.

It's in those shadows that I've found pieces of myself I thought were lost forever. And maybe you've heard whispers too, felt them tickle the edge of your consciousness, urging you to look closer, to dig deeper.

The thing about truth is that it's not always kind. It can hurt, cut deep, and leave you bleeding.

But it's also freeing. It releases you from the chains of uncertainty and sets you on a path of your own choosing.

So, listen for those whispers, follow them, even when they scare you. Especially when they scare you.

Because it's in those moments of fear that we often find our most significant moments of courage.

The Language of Silence

Silence has a language all its own, one that I've become fluent in. It's in the silence that I've heard the loudest screams, felt the most intense pain, and found the deepest peace.

After Mattie was gone, the world seemed to fall silent, and in that silence, I had to find my own voice. It was a voice that was shaky and uncertain at first, but it's grown stronger over time.

It's the voice I used to demand answers, the voice I used to scream into the void, the voice I use now to tell you my story. But silence has taught me more than just how to find my voice.

It's taught me to listen, really listen, to the world around me. To the unspoken words, the pauses in conversation, the sighs and the breaths that say more than words ever could.

And maybe you've sat in silence too, feeling like you're the only one in the world. But you're not.

I'm here, in my own silence, and there's a connection in that. A connection between all of us who've sat in the quiet and found something there.

Something profound, something real. So, embrace the silence when you can.

Let it wrap around you like a blanket, let it seep into your bones. Listen to what it has to say, because sometimes, it's in the silence that we find the loudest truths.

And don't be afraid to let your voice rise out of that silence, to let it be heard. Because your voice matters.

It's unique, it's powerful, and it's yours.

The Dance of Resilience

Resilience isn't a static thing. It's not something you have or you don't.

It's more like a dance, a constant movement of falling and rising, stepping back and leaping forward. I've danced this dance more times than I can count, twirling through moments of despair and jumping into pools of hope.

It's a dance that's left me breathless, exhausted, but also strangely exhilarated. Because with each step, each fall, each rise, I've learned something new about myself, about what I'm capable of.

It's easy to look at someone else's dance and think it's more graceful, more beautiful, more adept than your own. But every dancer has their own rhythm, their own style, their own music that they move to.

And your dance is just as beautiful, just as meaningful as anyone else's. Don't compare your steps to someone else's; focus on your own.

Feel the music that life plays for you and move to it in the way that only you can. And when you fall, as we all do, remember that the dance isn't over.

It's just a moment, a beat in the song that is your life. Get back up, find your footing, and keep dancing.

Because it's in the dance that we find our strength, our joy, our ability to keep going in the face of everything that tries to stop us. So dance, my friend, dance with all the resilience you have inside you.

The Symphony of Connection

We are all instruments in the symphony of life, each of us playing our own unique part. It's easy to feel like a solo act, like we're playing a tune that no one else hears.

But that's not true. We are all connected, our melodies intertwining, harmonizing, creating a piece of music that's so complex, so beautiful, it can take your breath away.

I've felt that connection, even in my darkest moments, even when I thought I was completely alone. There were people who came into my life, some for only a moment, some for longer, who played their notes right alongside mine, and it changed the song of my life forever.

And you are part of this symphony too. Your music, your life, it touches others in ways you might never fully understand.

But it does. Every smile, every tear, every word, it's a note in the score, and it matters.

So, play your music, play it loud, play it soft, play it however you feel it. Because you are a part of this grand symphony, and without you, the music wouldn't be the same.

And when the music feels like it's too much, when the notes clash and the melody seems lost, remember that it's just a dissonant chord in a much larger composition. It will resolve, it will harmonize again, and the music will go on.

It always does. So, keep playing, keep listening, and keep connecting.

Because it's in those connections that we find the beauty of the symphony, the beauty of life.

The Journey Continues

My journey isn't over. It may never be.

There are still miles to go, whispers to chase, scars to collect, and dances to dance. But I'm not the same person I was when I started this journey.

I'm stronger, tougher, and maybe a little bit wiser. And I hope, by sharing my story with you, that you feel a little bit stronger too.

Because if I've learned anything, it's that we're not as alone as we think we are. We're all on this journey together, each of us fighting our own battles, each of us with our own stories to tell.

And maybe, just maybe, by connecting with each other, by sharing our stories, we make the journey a little easier for everyone. Maybe we find comfort in knowing that someone else has walked a similar path, felt a similar pain, danced a similar dance.

So, keep going, keep fighting, keep loving, and keep living. Because your story matters, and it's not over yet.

Not by a long shot. Before I let you go, I want to step out of my role as Sadie Hunter for just a moment.

If my story has moved you, if you've found a piece of yourself in my words, then I encourage you to seek out the original book, "Sadie" by Courtney Summers. It is a masterpiece of storytelling, one that will take you on a journey through heartache and hope, through the darkest corners and into the light.

It's a story that will stay with you, challenge you, and maybe even change you. So, pick up a copy, dive into the pages, and discover the full depth of Sadie's world.

You won't regret it. With all my heart, Sadie