Warning: Rated T for suicide, along with mentions of anxiety, panic attacks and self-harm.

Jody, I heard you talking with May-Li's grandmother. About how writing down everything in a letter makes you feel better, or 'lighter' as you put it. So here I am now, trying that same technique. Maybe by the end of it, I won't go through with what I'm planning to do.

Might as well start at the beginning.

I was born to two people who I'm willing to bet had a rocky relationship at best. For one, my father walked out on me and my mother. I don't remember it, but that's what my social worker told me. I guess my mum was pregnant with Chloe at the time. That should really tell you all you need to know - a man walking out on his heavily pregnant partner and heavily dependent infant son. Father of the year right there folks!

So yeah, things were looking pretty shitty for us, but oh Lord, things were about to get much worse.

It's all in my records - my mum turned to the drink as a means of 'coping' after Chloe was born. She just couldn't stand the prospect of the love of her life leaving her. She could barely provide for herself and one child, let alone two!

Actually no, scratch that. She couldn't provide for any children at all, full stop. All she could provide for was herself and her alcohol addiction. She acknowledged us, once in a while - she used Chloe like a doll, hugging her and feeding her when she felt empty. She would care for me in my infancy, only until I was old enough to toddle. Then it was left up to me to figure everything out. Mum would often leave me home alone to take care of Chloe, while she went out. I would sing to Chloe, anything I could, until she was old enough to join in.

Eh, I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this. It's all in my file - how I was taken into care on my fifth birthday, because my mother blamed me for Chloe's fall, just to save face. That's right, she let her own son, her five-year-old son, carry a false burden for what could've been his whole life. For crying out loud, did she have any idea of the serious psychological repercussions that would induce?! How the hell do you impose that sort of blame on a child?!

Normally, I would've been given some sort of punishment for allegedly pushing my sister out of the window, but the age of criminal responsibility is 10, and I was 5. Not wanting me to grow up in a toxic household, I was taken away from my sister - whom I loved and cared for more than anything or anyone else in the entire world - and put into care, where I didn't know anyone and I didn't know what was happening.

When I was 7 - or maybe 8 - I was given the chance to see Chloe again. However, that didn't go too well. Mum insisted on watching over the whole thing, and poor Chloe couldn't get a word in edgeways. Mum kept demanding to know why I did it, and naturally I couldn't provide an answer. I didn't know what would get into me to do something like that - I didn't even remember doing it! She kept going on and on, ranting and raving, I wouldn't be surprised if she was drunk. Right there, in that moment, was when it all got too much - I had a panic attack. My first panic attack at the age of 8, imposed by my own mother.

Have you ever had a panic attack? I really, REALLY hope you haven't - it's not something I'd wish on anyone. You feel out of control - it's like oxygen has been taken from you. It's honestly terrifying - you can't breathe, your heart is kicking into overdrive, your chest feels like it's going to collapse in on itself, your stomach is doing somersaults, you feel hot and cold at the same time, you're sweating, you don't know why you're experiencing this or how to get it to stop - and that's the scariest part, because above all, when you're having a panic attack, you don't have a shadow of a doubt in your mind that you are going to die right then and there, and there's nothing whatsoever you can do about it.

And that was just one of many panic attacks I ended up having. When you have generalised anxiety disorder when you're less than ten years old, and said mental disorder is caused by your own mother, you know your situation is fucked up.

After that, I knew I had lost Chloe. I could never have my sister back again.

That was when I just snapped.

I stopped caring. I had lost everything and everyone important to me. So I just did whatever I wanted, not caring about how it would affect others. How could I show compassion when the world showed no compassion to me?!

Okay, I got Xanax for my anxiety, fair enough. But only after my current care home had an inspection to see whether or not they could properly care for a child with mental health issues and failed. I had to be sent to a 'special home'. I hated it there. The whole point of being sent there is be supported through your mental illness, so you know something is off when a kid with anxiety is self-harming because of him having to live there. The care worker - I won't go into what he did, but let's just say that you wouldn't send a neurotypical child there, let alone a mentally ill child!

They had a dog. I don't remember what breed it was, but I know that it was huge and it'd probably scare the shit out of even Bailey - hell, it'd probably terrify Mischief himself! That dog led to ingrained cynophobia. I can't get over it, and now I never will.

It was a relief when I got out of there. I got sent to Heathview House after I was deemed 'sane enough'. You know the story then - Laces and his mates tearing up my sister's card (although I have always begged the question of how he ended up with a nickname like Laces!), and me having the mother of all anxiety attacks when it came to his birthday. I wasn't thinking straight, genuinely - all I knew was that they had something I didn't - a birthday that didn't make you feel like you were the lowest scum of the Earth.

I requested a transfer, and I ended up here. You know everything that happened after that.

So, why am I killing myself?

I can't let go.

What I've wished for all those years in care was for Chloe's fall to never have happened. It was following me around 24/7 - the fact that I had committed such a heinous crime for a reason I couldn't recall even slightly. Even now, when I know that the burden I was carrying was false, I can't quite let go of it. I may not have pushed Chloe out of the window, but I should've kept an eye on her. Stopped her from getting so close.

I don't want to live like this anymore. Sometimes I still find myself relying on the knife to help me cope with myself and all the things that I've done. I've had enough, of everything. I'm gonna leave it all behind now. All the guilt. All the anxiety. All the pain.

Mike,

I'm sorry. Good God, I'm so sorry. You gave me more than I deserved. Thank you, for everything you've done for me. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I'm in the Ninth Circle of Hell as you read this.

Carmen,

You did a really brave thing back there, I respect you for that.

Bailey,

I'm sorry for letting Mischief out, I didn't mean for him to get hurt. Tell Mischief I'm sorry too.

Tyler,

I never thanked you for clearing my name, so I'm thanking you now. If you hadn't gone digging, I would've probably done this a lot sooner. Thanks, but I'm beyond saving now.

Jody,

Sorry for giving you a hard time about your family, and about your catharsis. Karma has come around by now - you're probably reading my most private and personal thoughts - everything I've wanted to say for my whole life.

Kazima,

Sorry for telling the news you were a thief.

Tee,

Thank you for throwing me a birthday party against my will - not! When I walked in to everyone singing, I was certain that my secret would be out - that I would have an attack right then and there, followed by a shit-ton of bullying. You can imagine my surprise when the anxiety didn't come.

Sasha,

If you were anyone else, I would praise you for having the guts to own up that it was you and Tee who told the others about Chloe, but you're not anyone else. You actually caused me to have a minor anxiety attack in front of everyone, and I know that it would've scaled into a full-blown attack if I hadn't gotten out of there.

Harry,

Mate, you're a legend. You're the kindest, most caring person I've ever known. I'm glad you stole my letter and called Chloe - it ended with a massive weight being lifted off my shoulders. You're gonna grow up to be a brilliant, amazing person - you're more than I deserve, honestly. This has to be done though, I'm so sorry mate.

Mum,

Fuck you. You can't just frame a vulnerable little child for something like that. You can't go lying to the police and Social Services. You can't just go to America and dump off your other child. That shit is just messed up.

Chloe,

I love you. Dear God I love you, wheelchair and all. I know this sounds cliche, but it's true - you were my sunshine, my light. You were the most important thing in my life - as long as I had you, I was happy and I needed or wanted nothing else. Just you and your wit, and your charm. Everyone who met you loved you, including me. Then there's me. Look at me, I'm arrogant, manipulative and dishonest. I don't deserve to live any longer, and now I won't. I love you and care about you more than anything and anyone else in the world. You are going to grow up to be such a beautiful, prosperous, wonderful woman, without me. You don't deserve me being attached to you - you deserve so much better. You deserve the world, Chloe, and you can get it.

That's all I want to say. No one else has made enough of an impact on my life to be worth mentioning here. Don't cry for me, you don't deserve the right to cry, and I don't deserve the right to be cried for.

Except for you, Chloe. Cry all you want.

With everything in me,

Ryan Reeves