If you’re reading this, and I hope you are; the secret password is “goat testes”. I also want you to know I’m rolling my eyes just writing that down. This letter is coming to you from beyond the grave. Not the spooky “ooooh, I’m sending this as a ghost” beyond the grave, but obviously you’re reading this after the funeral. Which means the therapist I asked to do me this favor was worth that much at least. So, there’s that.

The first thing I need to stress is that this wasn’t your fault. You have been the best human being I know for over fifteen years of my life. I’m going to say this again; Samantha Elizabeth Harker, you are the best human being I know in the -entire- universe and beyond. I’m also going to give you a few minutes to cry over that because I know you will, but I also know that message will sink in.

Alright. Now that you’ve had a few minutes and should have had time to stop the ugly crying at the very least, we can talk like rational adults. Yes, you can laugh, because no, I have never been rational the way everyone else is. That’s part of the bipolar. That’s not the point, though. The point is remember when we used to sit and talk about what we thought the Afterlife was like, and what might happen if we died? How it all seemed like it was probably going to be a lot of nothing, and Houdini was probably right about mediums and ghosts and everything being bullshit? That was when we decided on the secret password. We were 15. Goat testes was hilarious.

Turns out I’ve decided that maybe Houdini wasn’t exactly right, but he wasn’t completely wrong. I’m not saying the reason I made my early departure was “FOR SCIENCE!”, I’m sorry and sad to say that I had made that decision regardless, but I have decided to see if maybe there really is something else. If there is… I don’t know. I’ll find a way to leave another letter somewhere you can find it (Maybe somewhere creepy like your underwear drawer, hah!), and yes, I will start it with the secret password so you know it’s real and not bullshit.

If there really is something else, I don’t see why we shouldn’t have all the time in the world to carry on like we always have. Here’s hoping.

Your bestest compatriot in any life,

Helena