The Last Will And Testament of Leah Jane Aycott

My name is Leah Jane Aycott, I am eleven years old, and this is my last Will and Testament. It is also my first. 

To whomever reads this please ignore the pre-algebra homework on the back of this paper, it is not part of my Will or my Testament. It is simply the only paper I have with me right now. I am in the third shower stall in the girls’ locker room at Trinity Catholic Middle School. I am not Catholic. Sorry Dad. I realized last Thursday. On my tombstone, I do not want any pictures of saints or Bible quotes or crosses. An angel is fine, but especially no prayer-hands, and you have to do this because I said so in my Will and I’m gonna sign it at the bottom. 

The first and most important of my possessions is my Complete State Quarter collection. Even though the quarters only add up to $12.50 it is worth a lot more because it is, like I said, complete. I keep it in my Official State Quarters Collector’s Map, which has little drawings of every state’s seal and official flower, which are very pretty and informative. It is hidden under my mattress on the right side, and I officially leave it to my younger brother, Gabriel. However I appoint Mom as financial custodian until the time at which Gabriel has surpassed the fourth grade. I think by then he will be more responsible. I do not grant Caleb any access to this part of my estate. 

The second most valuable of my possessions is my green iPod touch, which I leave to Mom to sell or do with as she wishes - except please do not read through my messages with Hannah Calder or Adrian McCone. 

I used to think I would live to be at least thirty-five, and that I would work as a chemist or neurosurgeon or maybe a food-and-travel TV show host. I have come to terms with the fact that I have reached the end of my short time on this Earth, and I will not get to make explosions or fix brains or travel to Barcelona and figure out what tapas are. I have chosen the third shower stall to die in because a) nobody uses this stall anyway because the faucet is broken and b) I figure it will be easier to clean up my remains from tile than if I died on carpet, or the outside where bugs and animals will most definitely get to me first. 

The tiles here are small and square and teal-green, which is honestly quite calming. They run all the way up to the ceiling, where the light with bugs in it doesn’t turn on anymore. It is cool in here, and I do not think I shall suffer nearly as much as if I were to die in the summer heat. 

I leave my diaries to Annika Ramirez. Even though she moved to Arizona last spring, she is still my best friend, even though she hasn’t responded to my postcards. She will take good care of these possessions. 

Mrs. Muharram from Jefferson Elementary gets my poems I wrote (except the haikus which Mom gets) and to Miss Owens I leave my series of nature pastels, and also my permission to hang them in her classroom in my memory. 

I do not think curses are contagious, but in case they are please make sure to handle my corpse with caution. Hypothetically, I am dying because Adrian McCone put a curse on me to die fourteen days before my twelfth birthday. It is hypothetical because I do not want to press charges on Adrian for homicide, because after all she is only twelve, and I don’t think it’s fair for her to spend her teenage years in jail because of one curse. But that is why I am dying. 

Curses are very serious things to make. This is especially true at Catholic school where witchcraft is especially not allowed. When Adrian McCone (hypothetically) said, “Leah Jane Aycott I put a curse on you to die fourteen days before your twelfth birthday,” I was shocked, but the gravity of the situation did not strike me til today, September 9th. (My birthday is September 23rd.) I begged her several times to please lift the curse, but she ignored me and rolled her eyes even when I started crying, which is odd because we used to be best friends in fourth grade. 

I leave the contents of my giant purple crayon bank to the local dog shelter where we rescued Pancakes from. 

I suppose my biggest fear upon death is that I was here too briefly to make any difference, or do anything worthwhile. I got my bronze award in Girl Scouts, which I guess is important but I did not make any major contributions to the state of the world or energy conservation or medical science. I have not had a first kiss. I have not gotten married, or even divorced. 

My mom has an embroidery on the laundry room wall that says “Take time to stop and smell the roses.” I’m worried I have not done even this. When is the last time I smelled roses? Ever since we moved in with Caleb I have not seen any rose bushes around. How much time should I, as an almost-twelve-year-old, have taken in my life to stop and smell? I know that it is a saying about taking things slowly, but I feel like I have taken everything so very fast. 

My nice Christmas dress goes to my cousin Lily for when she is older and big enough to fit in it. 

My colored pencils and watercolors go to Hannah Calder, who will always be a better artist than I ever was. I hope that she can use these things to make beautiful work, and use any pain she feels at my death to inspire her. Picasso did his blue period after his friend died, and Picasso was very successful. 

Hannah, in case you are reading this, I’d like to make a note to you here. (If you are not Hannah and you are reading this, please skip ahead out of respect.) 

Hannah, I think you are very talented and cool, and I am glad to have been your friend. You are very beautiful and everyone loves you for a good reason. I do not know why you think you need to look different because you are already so pretty and also bodies change with puberty anyway which you’re already ahead of me in. I am sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable or if I’m annoying. Do you remember when I slept over at your house for three nights while my mom was moving? We climbed up on the hill behind your house and made that fort out of branches and an old tarp. You told me the things you were afraid of (death, spiders) and I told you the things that I was afraid of (spiders, lawyers). We carved our initials in one of the branches with your brother’s pocket knife and only went back inside when it got dark and cold. But the stars were so beautiful from up there and we could look down on the whole city and I felt free with you there, which isn’t a feeling I’ve had for a long time since. 

When we started sixth grade, you told me that we needed to spend less time together because it was important for you to make new friends who were older and prettier because that is how you become popular. I think I responded poorly. If I remember correctly, I said something along the lines of: 

“But Hannah, I think I am in love with you.” 

I remember this moment because you laughed and then looked confused and then didn’t talk to me outside of “Hey” for about a month. Also because I was filled with an intense emotion which I have never felt for another person before, and then my heart hurt.

I have of course moved past this by now, and I’m much too busy for love anyway. I wanted to clear the air and let you know that I am not in love with you anymore, so hopefully now you can remember me fondly and forget all that. 

I am going to try to write more quickly because my arms are itchy and I’m worried it’s the curse beginning to set in. 

I leave my Nintendo Switch Lite to Noah from Mr. Evans’ class because he’s better at Pokemon games than me and likes yellow (the color of my DSi) better than coral (the color of his DSi). 

I leave my golden crucifix necklace that Nana gave me to Adrian McCone. I hope that it will inspire her to think of the Lord Jesus, whom she loves very much, before setting any more curses on people. This is also because I am not Catholic anymore and therefore I think it is probably blasphemous for me to wear this necklace. Adrian, please consider this necklace as a truce and know that I will not haunt you for cursing me, and that I forgive you even after death because that is the mature thing to do. It makes me upset that you told me that I can’t hang out with you or get into Heaven because I like girls, and I smell bad, but it is okay now because I have excommunicated myself, and also I started wearing deodorant. 

I leave my charm bracelet to Dad, who brought me most of the charms from different places he traveled before switching jobs. He can put it on his keychain to think of me. Finally, I leave my school papers and old boxes of dolls and other meaningless possessions to Caleb, because he doesn’t like messes, and I think he would enjoy cleaning it all up, and then he can put an office or personal gym in my room which I think would make him happy anyway. 

My hands are beginning to get sweaty, and my chest hurts a bit and I sort of want to cry so I think the curse is here. In a few moments I will be dead. I will not be going to heaven, but I don’t think I’m going to hell or purgatory either because those are places that are real if you believe in them, which I don’t. I do not have a clear idea of what will happen to me, and that’s my own fault for not taking enough time to stop and smell roses or consider death. I hope that it will not hurt, but even more I hope that it will not be lonely. Sometimes in my dreams I’m just floating in stars looking down at the city, and maybe I am one of the stars, and I can see tiny cars and the hill behind Hannah’s house. It’s an oblivion but not an empty one, and that makes me feel a bit better. I don’t know that I’d want to be in heaven anyway because the only other person I know there is Nana, and her house always smelled like cat pee, and she always seemed sort of angry at everything, and I don’t think living with her for all eternity would be that much fun, no offense. 

I am going to close my eyes now, and let the curse take its final, fatal, hold of me. I will let death take me peacefully. I will not resist the universe. I will pray to everyone and everything. I hope the world knows I love it, I hope you know too Mom, and Gabriel, and Dad and Annika and Hannah and Adrian and even Caleb. 

Signed, 

Leah Jane Aycott. 

(I am my own witness.)