Unwritten Pages

I sit in my bedroom and stare at the journal. I haven't been able to open it. All I'm doing is staring at the cover. I think back to earlier along the day—right after art class was over. I had asked Arianna about the notebook.

“Ari!”

Arianna turned to look at me. “Yeah?”

I held up the book. “This—did you read all of it?” I wanted to know what her thoughts were on it...and if this book contained any important information.

Arianna shook her head to my dismay. “Well, just the first page or so.”

“That's it? Weren't you curious?”

Arianna thought about it for a while. “Yeah, but her parents told them to give it to you first. And I don't like reading it. It kind of makes me feel...odd.”

I kind of understood what she meant. The book that I was holding may be full of secrets in Winter's life. Secrets that I may not want to know. Plus—she was dead. I guess it would feel weird to pry into a dead person's privacy.

“Her parents?”

“They thought you might want to read it first—before they gave it in to the police and stuff. I don't think they thought there was anything important in there. But there might be. Though I think the possibility is pretty low.”

“Oh,” I said. I thought of her lyrics. Could this book possibly contain what drove her to commit suicide? Suddenly, this book felt heavy in my hands.

“So...” she said, “I think you'll have to give it to the police or something by the end of the summer.”

“Yeah...” I managed to say.

“You're going to University out of Canada, right?”

I nodded. “With Desiree,” I added.

Arianna smiled. “Good luck at University,” she said. “You can visit me anytime, I'm attending College here.”

I nodded again. It felt a bit odd to talk about these things. In a few months, I would be starting University in the States with Desiree (though we still haven’t made up yet) and Arianna would be starting College. And Winter wasn't here anymore. She was lying at her grave—underground.

Usually, Winter would have such a big part in this, but she was dead.

“See you on Monday,” Arianna said as she began to walk away.

“You too,” I told her as I watched her figure get smaller as she went.

I sigh as my memories are interrupted by a crash downstairs. My mother had probably dropped something.

Soon, 'Monday' will be 'next holiday' when we're completely finished high school. And maybe even then—we might not be able to see each other on the holidays.

“Property of Winterlyn Evaline Lawly,” I read out loud. The book feels heavy it my hand. Holding this book I feel like I'm an old feeble man. My hands feel like they're shaking, but when I look at them, they're still.

I take a deep breath. I don't know why this book is so hard to open. I force my hand to just flip the cover over.

It's not so hard. Until I look at the page.

The page is full of writing. The writing to bubbly, big, and messy. It's written to fill up the whole line and the words are printed, but you can see faint lines that follow ever letter so it makes it look like cursive.

That's how Winter writes.

Seeing her writing, my throat feels dry. I can just see her hand writing messy notes for classes. Without even thinking, I get off my bed and dig through my drawer of old work sheets.

I reach the ones near the bottom—the ninth grade ones. I pull out a piece of paper randomly. Most of my ninth grade notes have Winter's writing on them.

It's a Math hand out. It looks like I got a zero on it. I can see Winter's writing on the sides of the paper, explaining each equation. Funny how I was terrible at Math back then—even though it's one of my favourite subjects.

Seeing the writing makes me feel a sharp pain in my chest. Though it's more than that dull pain I felt in the cemetery. I put the paper down on the floor slowly and head back to my bed where the notebook is.

I take another deep breath and start reading from the very top.



New book, new page, new hopes! It's the beginning of a new year! Well, not really. But... Oh my gosh! School is tomorrow! That counts as a new year to me—I change books every year. I always get to the end of a journal (or even further sometimes and I need another journal) But... It's twelfth grade already! And after that is UNIVERSITY and COLLEGE!! That's CRAZY! Wow! Why does time past so quickly?! It's insane! I remember when it was still fifth grade like the back of my mind... Okay, not really, there are some things that I can't remember.

Actually: I remember ninth grade like the back of my mind! Better yet, I remember yesterday like the back of my mind! Okay...well because it was yesterday...

I can't believe I'm starting twelfth grade tomorrow, really. It's insane. Insanity! I might as well become a vampire tomorrow too. After sixth grade—every single year feels like a MONTH. No jokes. It's absolutely crazy. I don't want to be old though... Very sad...

I can't imagine what the world will be like when I'm old. Maybe they'll finally build flying cars and make Sky Ways or whatever it's going to be called. And then I'll be sitting in an old folk's home listening to my iPod. Oh! Yeah, the iPods of the future will probably be a microchip installed in the brain. Then you somehow sync music from iTunes on that... Creepy... Maybe TOO much technology is bad...

Anyways: bye! I'm going out to get some last minute binders and pens. Maybe I shouldn't spend so much on them this year... It IS my last year, after all. Wait—my last year. Of course I have to buy a lot of stuff this year! If anything—all my money should be spent this year!! I hope I get into the University or College of my choice!

And if I don't... I'm going to bawl in the bathroom like a girl that was rejected by her crush. Except—I would be rejected by a school. Now THAT'S sad.

Well I have hopes for the future. New, bright hopes, that will (hopefully) come true.

Ah, short entry. I'll make up for it eventually. Usually first entries are short anyways. It's not like I have a lot of drama in my life...

Yet...

Ha-ha! Just kidding. Well I wouldn't mind SOME drama, really. But not too much. I'm not noticed a lot anyways...

Doorbell's ringing! I'm going now!

Wait—wait! I'm going to University or College next year!! WHOO!!

I stop reading it.

It's shocking.

Winter....

She didn't even sound like she wanted to kill herself. Everything was...perfect. And she thought she was going to University or College soon.

You never get there, I think bitterly. You never get to go to University or College. You never even got to officially finish high school.

I sigh. What had gotten Winter to go...crazy? What had gotten Winter to commit suicide? She's not the type of person to do that for attention.

I look at the book that's still open. The answers may lie in this book—as insignificant as it may look. Never judge a book by it's cover—especially if it's a journal written by a dead person.

Arianna probably just read the first entry. Maybe even the second one. I wonder if it made her upset. I know it made me upset.

She's gone right now. But here—in this book, the ink dates back to last year, September. Back before her name was even noticed.

I want to read more, but it's getting late.

I look outside, it's dark already. I check the clock—it's around twelve thirty.

I close the curtains and put the book on top of the drawer. The book is closed now. Winter's name is facing up.

I turn off the lights and flop on my bed. I close my eyes.

New hopes.

Hopes that never came true.

Winter's journal is already full of the new hopes that never came true.

I'm not crying yet. But it hurts to think about it. I keep on thinking about it, even though it hurts, because that's the only emotion that I can feel from Winter's death so far. I don't want to let it go. I'm not sadistic. I'm thinking of it as being respectful to Winter.

Winter deserves more than just words at the funeral. She deserves more than the attention she's received since her death. Winter deserves a lot more.

Her death shouldn't lead to feelings of... Feelings of nothing. Her death should lead to hurt and tears. Her death should lead to...

I don't know what else it should lead to. I roll onto my side and try to calm my mind enough to sleep.

New hopes...