Chapter 7

Dear Oliver,

I know we barely know each other. And please, forgive me for any issues with words. But I have things I want you to know. I’m just afraid to tell you in person. I do not want your sympathy, just your understanding, and knowledge. I know I act differently than the others. And I hope you are not with me because you feel sorry for me. You have no reason to feel sorry for me.

But let me get started. I want to tell you why I am not as advanced as most people my age. It’s a story I haven’t told many, and I want to keep it that way. I gave you this letter when I knew I could trust you.

I don't know how long this will end up being, so I apologize if it ends up being too long.

But, it all started when I was born. There were complications and my mother died giving birth, leaving me alone with my father. After my mom died, he raised me until I was around four years old, then it all started getting bad.

He started drinking more. More of the hard stuff. More often. He always reeked of