The Suicide Diaries

All Hallows Eve night, 1992 is one event in my childhood that I will never forget. I can still feel the damp chill as the fog settles into my bones, and the way a mist of rain water seems to collect in my hair as I race through the tombstones. I can remember Jimmy’s soft childish laughter, the one he never grew out of, and Brian’s large hand gripped in mine, tugging me behind him. Johnny’s girlish scream as Zacky and Matt pop up behind a tombstone and scare him shitless has been one of my fondest memories. I can remember everything and anything about that night, down to the last drop of dew that has settled on Brian’s brow as he pulls me into an accidental hug. Most importantly, I remember the red leather bound book that I picked up and immediately wish I hadn’t.



“Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!” Jimmy’s voice floats over to the rest of the group as he weaves in and out of the old tombstones, chasing Johnny relentlessly.

I watch the pair of them with a smile on my face, but can’t help but shudder at the overall atmosphere of the place. It is the first time any of us had dared to enter the Huntington Beach cemetery on Halloween, and I am already wanting to leave. It had originally been Zachary’s idea, and of course, the other boys didn’t want to back down from a challenge. Being the only girl sometimes has its advantages, but it is usually used against me when I don’t want to do anything out of my element. It isn’t scary for them because they were acting like a bunch of idiots and not even thinking about all the scary ghouls and goblins that could pop out at us at any moment.

The sound of fluttering wings makes me cry out, and push myself flush against the gangly eleven year old boy holding my hand. I can just see his smirk before I bury my face into his side, pressing myself as close to him as I can possibly get.

“Bri, I want to leave,” I complain in a shaky voice, squeezing his hand hard.

“Yeah BriBri,” Matt mocks from far away, making the others laugh. “Let’s goooo!”

Brian grumbles something unintelligible at Matt before flipping him off. No wonder my mamma doesn’t approve of me hanging out with them. They’re always getting in trouble and saying things that little boys shouldn’t. But they’re my best friends, and I love them.

“Shut up Mattie,” I holler, my voice muffled by Brian’s black hoodie.

“Leave her alone Matt. She’s scared,” Brian stands up for me, his voice angry.

I peek up at him, embarrassed, and see him looking down at me. He smiles an encouraging smile, and my face colours.

“Kissy kissy!” Johnny pipes up, puckering his lips together as he shoves his face between Brian and I.

“Seward!” I bellow, letting go of Brian in pursuit of the smaller boy.

He’s so tiny, but very quick on his feet from years of outrunning Jimmy. I pump my legs faster, hoping to catch up to him and grab a hold of the hood on his sweater. My hand outstretches and gets ready to grab a hold of it, but Johnny swerves at the last second. I slip on the wet grass and sprawl out on top of a not so old grave. When I realize I’m face first in a pile of semi wet soil, I scream as loud as I can and back peddle, still on my butt.

I can hear the pounding of small feet as the guys all run towards me, shocked out of their wits by the screams that leave my lips. Within moments I am gathered in Brian’s arms as he kneels beside me, pulling me into a hug.

“It’s okay Andie, it’s okay,” Brian murmurs, rubbing my back in that awkward way that boys do.

“Shit Andie! You scared us!” Matt puffs, leaning over beside me and panting like he just ran a marathon.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I stammer, gripping onto Brian. “It was scar-r-ry.”

“It’s okay. We shouldn’t have come here anyways. You guys are such dicks to her,” Brian tells them, helping me to my feet.

“Aww man,” Zacky whines, scuffing the toe of his converse into the dirty. “We were just playin’ around.”

“Yeah Andie. Don’t be mad okay? We’ll leave if you want,” Jimmy says, patting my back as I cling to Brian.

I can’t help the fear that runs through me, or the fact that being with Brian makes me feel safe. I don’t want to ruin their night, but I really don’t want to be here. Brian gives Matt a look and the leader of our small group nods, gesturing for the rest to follow him. As Brian steers me away from the spooky grave, something red catches my eye.

“Wait! What’s that?” I inquire, grabbing a hold of Brian and tugging him back.

His chocolate brown orbs are curious and confused as he looks down at me. I point to the small red object which is sitting upright on the tombstone belonging to the grave I fell on, and they grow even darker in confusion.

“I want to see what this is,” I tell him, once more breaking away him and advancing towards the grave.

Bending down, I pick up the red book and immediately feel a shiver of fear race down my spine. My chest tingles and tightens with worry, and I find that I have trouble breathing. The boys behind me are completely unaware of this, as they prod and poke Brian for staring at my ass.

“Why don’t you just kiss her already, BriBri?” I can hear Matt teasing.

“Matt, I will punch you in your dumb face,” Brian threatens.

The heat rushes to my face as I take in their teasing, but I’m more distracted by the heat coming from the book. It seems alive almost, like it has its own pulse and doesn’t like the fact that I’m holding onto it.

“What is it, Andie?” Johnny asks.

He’s not usually one to partake in the teasing, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s the only one to take interest in the thing that I’m holding in my hands.

“I don’t know, Johnny,” I admit, opening up the first page. “But I’m about to find out.”

Judging by the messy, feminine scripture and the way the entries are inconsistent, it is a woman’s diary. I briefly skim the first pages, finding nothing interesting, until I come to the entry for October first. The description is morbid and disturbing, and I try my hardest not to retch. Repulsed, I hand the diary to Johnny and turn away, burying my face in my hands.

I know who the diary used to belong to. In the past months, teens have been committing suicide like they get the flu. It’s been in the papers non-stop, each suicide more brutal than the last. The latest one had to do with a girl named Haley Chapman, who slit her wrists last week. She was the final suicide from the month of October, and her death had been under very unpleasant circumstances. This is her diary, and it is disgusting. I can hardly look at the pages without wanting to puke.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whine, trudging over to Brian who is pushing Jimmy playfully.

His teasing expression softens as he sees the ashen look on my face, and with a soft sigh, he opens his arms for me. I snuggle in against him, not caring as the guys get a case of the giggles once more. Brian’s long arm loops around my waist while the other runs through my black hair, which is an utterly soothing position. He’s growing on me rather quick, and I blush just thinking about it.

“Guys, this is so cool!” Zacky exclaims, his love and adoration for morbid items coming out as he brandishes the diary in the air.

“You’re disgusting, Zack,” Johnny says, making a face at him.

“It’s an honest piece of work. The girl obviously had a lot of issues, and I think that it is so cool that we found her death diary.”

I cringe at this, shaking my head at how cruel Zacky can be. I know he doesn’t mean to be because when he gets excited about things, he doesn’t think before he says anything.

“Zacky, that’s a bit of a stretch dude. Let’s go.”

Even Jimmy sound apprehensive as he rubs his long arms quickly, trying to bring some warmth to them. I’ve never seen him wear anything but a baggy t-shirt, even though he is the tallest and skinniest boy in all of Huntington Beach.

“No, just listen guys. I’ll leave this here and not say anything about it if you do this one thing for me,” he bargains.

“We’re not doing anything, Zack! Andie said an hour ago that she wanted to leave, and we’re leaving. NOW,” Brian’s voice booms across the empty cemetery, gaining an unearthly echo.

“Come on guys. We had fun until Andie got her panties in a bunch. We should just come here every Halloween and hang out. It’ll be great, like our own little tradition!” Zacky says, clapping his hands delightedly.

“I don’t know Zach. It seems a little weird,”

“It’s not weird! It’s unique. We can never do anything fun here in Huntington. There’s always someone telling us we can’t do this or we can’t do that. Why can’t we have this one thing to ourselves?” Zacky questions, his voice shrill.

The group goes quiet as we process what Zacky has just said. He’s right in the sense that we never do have things to ourselves. Our parents keep us on a tight leash and get mad at everything we try to do. Now, we have an opportunity to take something that can be uniquely ours and no one can take away from us. I raise my head higher to look at Zacky, who’s jade eyes are flashing with hope. I groan, knowing I can’t say no to one of my dearest and oldest friends.

“Fine Zacky, we’ll come back here next year, the year after that, and the year after that. Just put that thing down and let’s get the fuck out of here,” Brian speaks up, saying what is on all our minds.

Zacky’s entire face lights up, and I suddenly don’t feel as bad as I know I should. He drops the red book onto the ground and leaps towards us, a smile on his face.

We exit the cemetery like we’re being chased, Brian’s hand sliding back down to grab mine. The air is alight with talk of late trick or treating and sleeping over at each other’s houses, the odd diary forgotten. But as we walked away that day, a tradition was made, and it would be upheld for years to come.