Status: NaNoWriMo 2011!!
Unwritten Pages
Nothing Left
It's dark outside. I'm wide awake. I can't sleep. It's past midnight, I suppose. But that doesn't stop me from opening up the green book. The pink ribbon on the front is a little worn from my throwing it around.
June, 5th
I've been hanging around Drew after school a lot... I just don't want to go back. My parents actually seem okay with it... I feel so horrible.
I told Drew everything. Every single horrible thing. Well, almost everything. I left out some...vital parts. He didn't need to know that. It's funny how I can say it out loud but I can't force myself to write it... Anyways, Andrew sensed something was wrong. He talked to me this morning and asked me if there was anything wrong. I wanted to tell him, but at the same time I didn't want to talk about it anymore.
But how do you put something as...major as that behind me?
I want to call the police and spill my guts about what happened. Drew told me to. But...
When I got home today, there was something in the mailbox for me. My mom hadn't opened so she didn't see what was inside. I wish she had opened it... But she didn't. If she had opened it, I could have explained everything. But I couldn't bring myself to now because she didn't know.
I opened it and inside was HIS neat handwriting. I hated that. I hated how innocent he had made it seem. Him and his innocent blue eyes—staring at you like he had done nothing wrong— It's horrible.
It said:
I frown. The page is ripped here. I don't know where that ripped piece of paper is. The writing continues with the next entry.
June, 6th
Despite my...horror. Today is Arianna's birthday. I didn't want to look like I was sulking over anything so I tried to be as cheerful as possible.
Andrew noticed. Again. If he was noticing, I was doing a horrible job on it. He's usually so self-absorbed. He asked me what was wrong and all that. But... I didn't want to tell him. Though he was so...honest about it. Sincere. What a big contrast. Andrew's sincere blue eyes and HIS 'innocent' blue eyes. I wish...
I don't know what I wish. But if I only had one wish, I would wish that May, 26th never happened the way it did happen.
But if wishes were horses, even the beggars would ride.
June, 9th
HE came today. I wanted to hate him but I couldn't. He didn't know what he had done. But no—he did know. He told me not to tell anyone. Or else. I didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good. Was he going to try the same thing he did to me to Desiree and Arianna? No—I couldn't let him. I couldn't tell.
“You were the one...stalking me,” I said shakily before he left. He smiled at me. It was the same horrible smile right before he Did That. I wanted to hurl. I wanted to curl up in a corner and forget everything.
How had I stumbled across this horrible misfortune?
I had no idea.
“Well,” he said, “it began as a payment.” He grinned as he caught the horror on my face. “A payment from...someone who isn't important anymore. She just wanted me to scare you. She didn't know what I would do. Of course, she just thought I was a stupid animal with no thoughts at her disposal.” He licked his lips and I cringed. “That little girl was wrong.”
I didn't ask him who that girl was. I didn't want to know. But I had a feeling that it was HER.
I asked him but he only shook his head and laughed. “I'm telling you,” he warned once more. “If anyone finds out, you're as good as dead.”
With that, we parted ways.
Good as dead. Being dead sounded better than life right now...
June, 13th
Ever since HE mentioned it... I've been thinking...about suicide. It sounds so good right now. Tempting and within reach.
I didn't voice any of these thoughts to Drew. He would have me locked up somewhere and I would have to tell the whole story again. This time, to the media. If I was dead, the media would have no one's life to ruin because I was already dead. And besides, my life was ruined enough without the media butting in.
Liane... I haven't talked about her for a while, but she's gloating. That bitch has the nerve to do that. I hate her. I hate her so much. I just—
There I am again. I'm crying. Why do I have to cry over these stupid things? I might as well be dead. I hate this life. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!
Why me? Why me? Why ME?
I bet Liane has an answer for that: “It's because you exist.”
Maybe I shouldn't exist anymore.
Her life had been spinning out of control. I don't even know what happened or who the instigator is. All I know is it's a male. He had been stalking. The next entry isn't long enough to contain vital information. I doubt it'll reveal anything else except her hate for the world. But I need to know. I need to know.
This is the last entry. After this, there will be no more Winter. All that will be left of her is a gravestone. That's it. Nothing left. She'll be gone. Forever this time. To distract myself for a moment, I make myself read the first few journal entries again. Back when everything was innocent and happy.
Who knew that just a few months can change everything around? Who knew just a few months...can ruin your life?
I take a deep breath before I read the last entry. Maybe written just minutes before she died.
June, 14th
It's raining outside. Funny, it reflects my mood.
Andrew cornered me today in the morning. He said that he knew something was wrong and I was acting horribly off. I said it was nothing and he insisted that I tell. I got mad at him and stormed away.
I guess he felt bad about it. I kept on hearing him though. “You can tell me anything. Trust me.”
The last person I trusted ruined my life. But I didn't tell him that.
It was pouring really hard when I was walking home from school. It was a giant storm. Like the storm in my heart... Alright, I won't be poetic, but that's how it felt. I crashed into Andrew on the way. He was really worried and all and offered to walk me home. I refused and I started to laugh. Insane laughter.
Because right then, I realized what I was going to do today. Call it an act of cowardice—I'd rather sleep and never wake than face HIM again.
He was so concerned. I was about to let him walk me home when I looked into his eyes.
Blue. They were same colour as the boy who ruined my life. All of a sudden, that very day replayed in my mind. I couldn't take it anymore and I pushed him and ran.
He ran after me but he didn't catch up. I guess he slipped somewhere.
When I got home, there was a voicemail on the home phone. It was my parents, saying that they'd be home later because of the storm. That was fine with me. I could do whatever I wanted.
But before I did. I phoned Andrew. He was so worried about everything and for a split second, I debated whether I should tell him everything. But I didn't. I didn't want to put the burden on his shoulders. And I still felt...feelings for him. I didn't want to hurt him.
I told him that whatever happened to me, it wasn't his fault.
Then I hung up.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I never thought I would come to this. But then he would leave me alone. My story didn't need to be told. I could tell, but I didn't want to. They would find my story or not. It didn't matter.
To anyone who may be reading this for any charges...
The pages I ripped out and wrote—I hid it in an old jewelry box buried right behind my house in the backyard on the right of the flowerbed. If you really want to know what happened, you'll look there.
I'm sorry world. But goodbye.
Those are the last words. I don't know how long I've stared at them. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye—
I suddenly get up and rush down the stairs. My parents are asleep and they don't hear me. Before I leave the house, I scribble a quick note telling them where I've gone in case they wake up early. Then I leave the house.
The green notebook is still in my hands and I hold it tightly, as if holding onto a lifeline.
I have to find that sheet of paper that Winter has mentioned. I have to find it. I need to know the full story. I can't just live my life without knowing the complete story.
The bus is already there and I board it. The bus driver gives me an odd look and I remember that it's still very late or very early outside.
“Dealing drugs?” he jokes.
I only smile. If only he knew.
It takes a while to get there and I'm restless. I keep thinking about what I'll say and how it'll sound. Before my stop, I realize that I haven't changed from my clothes yet. But luckily, I'm still wearing the clothes that I had worn to Desiree's house.
When the bus drops me off, I almost run to my destination. I'm not even tired by the time I get to her house. I knock impatiently. After a few more knocks, she comes out, her brown hair messy and she's glaring at me.
In answer, I hold up the journal, showing her Winter's name. “I have something to tell you,” I say.
June, 5th
I've been hanging around Drew after school a lot... I just don't want to go back. My parents actually seem okay with it... I feel so horrible.
I told Drew everything. Every single horrible thing. Well, almost everything. I left out some...vital parts. He didn't need to know that. It's funny how I can say it out loud but I can't force myself to write it... Anyways, Andrew sensed something was wrong. He talked to me this morning and asked me if there was anything wrong. I wanted to tell him, but at the same time I didn't want to talk about it anymore.
But how do you put something as...major as that behind me?
I want to call the police and spill my guts about what happened. Drew told me to. But...
When I got home today, there was something in the mailbox for me. My mom hadn't opened so she didn't see what was inside. I wish she had opened it... But she didn't. If she had opened it, I could have explained everything. But I couldn't bring myself to now because she didn't know.
I opened it and inside was HIS neat handwriting. I hated that. I hated how innocent he had made it seem. Him and his innocent blue eyes—staring at you like he had done nothing wrong— It's horrible.
It said:
I frown. The page is ripped here. I don't know where that ripped piece of paper is. The writing continues with the next entry.
June, 6th
Despite my...horror. Today is Arianna's birthday. I didn't want to look like I was sulking over anything so I tried to be as cheerful as possible.
Andrew noticed. Again. If he was noticing, I was doing a horrible job on it. He's usually so self-absorbed. He asked me what was wrong and all that. But... I didn't want to tell him. Though he was so...honest about it. Sincere. What a big contrast. Andrew's sincere blue eyes and HIS 'innocent' blue eyes. I wish...
I don't know what I wish. But if I only had one wish, I would wish that May, 26th never happened the way it did happen.
But if wishes were horses, even the beggars would ride.
June, 9th
HE came today. I wanted to hate him but I couldn't. He didn't know what he had done. But no—he did know. He told me not to tell anyone. Or else. I didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good. Was he going to try the same thing he did to me to Desiree and Arianna? No—I couldn't let him. I couldn't tell.
“You were the one...stalking me,” I said shakily before he left. He smiled at me. It was the same horrible smile right before he Did That. I wanted to hurl. I wanted to curl up in a corner and forget everything.
How had I stumbled across this horrible misfortune?
I had no idea.
“Well,” he said, “it began as a payment.” He grinned as he caught the horror on my face. “A payment from...someone who isn't important anymore. She just wanted me to scare you. She didn't know what I would do. Of course, she just thought I was a stupid animal with no thoughts at her disposal.” He licked his lips and I cringed. “That little girl was wrong.”
I didn't ask him who that girl was. I didn't want to know. But I had a feeling that it was HER.
I asked him but he only shook his head and laughed. “I'm telling you,” he warned once more. “If anyone finds out, you're as good as dead.”
With that, we parted ways.
Good as dead. Being dead sounded better than life right now...
June, 13th
Ever since HE mentioned it... I've been thinking...about suicide. It sounds so good right now. Tempting and within reach.
I didn't voice any of these thoughts to Drew. He would have me locked up somewhere and I would have to tell the whole story again. This time, to the media. If I was dead, the media would have no one's life to ruin because I was already dead. And besides, my life was ruined enough without the media butting in.
Liane... I haven't talked about her for a while, but she's gloating. That bitch has the nerve to do that. I hate her. I hate her so much. I just—
There I am again. I'm crying. Why do I have to cry over these stupid things? I might as well be dead. I hate this life. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!
Why me? Why me? Why ME?
I bet Liane has an answer for that: “It's because you exist.”
Maybe I shouldn't exist anymore.
Her life had been spinning out of control. I don't even know what happened or who the instigator is. All I know is it's a male. He had been stalking. The next entry isn't long enough to contain vital information. I doubt it'll reveal anything else except her hate for the world. But I need to know. I need to know.
This is the last entry. After this, there will be no more Winter. All that will be left of her is a gravestone. That's it. Nothing left. She'll be gone. Forever this time. To distract myself for a moment, I make myself read the first few journal entries again. Back when everything was innocent and happy.
Who knew that just a few months can change everything around? Who knew just a few months...can ruin your life?
I take a deep breath before I read the last entry. Maybe written just minutes before she died.
June, 14th
It's raining outside. Funny, it reflects my mood.
Andrew cornered me today in the morning. He said that he knew something was wrong and I was acting horribly off. I said it was nothing and he insisted that I tell. I got mad at him and stormed away.
I guess he felt bad about it. I kept on hearing him though. “You can tell me anything. Trust me.”
The last person I trusted ruined my life. But I didn't tell him that.
It was pouring really hard when I was walking home from school. It was a giant storm. Like the storm in my heart... Alright, I won't be poetic, but that's how it felt. I crashed into Andrew on the way. He was really worried and all and offered to walk me home. I refused and I started to laugh. Insane laughter.
Because right then, I realized what I was going to do today. Call it an act of cowardice—I'd rather sleep and never wake than face HIM again.
He was so concerned. I was about to let him walk me home when I looked into his eyes.
Blue. They were same colour as the boy who ruined my life. All of a sudden, that very day replayed in my mind. I couldn't take it anymore and I pushed him and ran.
He ran after me but he didn't catch up. I guess he slipped somewhere.
When I got home, there was a voicemail on the home phone. It was my parents, saying that they'd be home later because of the storm. That was fine with me. I could do whatever I wanted.
But before I did. I phoned Andrew. He was so worried about everything and for a split second, I debated whether I should tell him everything. But I didn't. I didn't want to put the burden on his shoulders. And I still felt...feelings for him. I didn't want to hurt him.
I told him that whatever happened to me, it wasn't his fault.
Then I hung up.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I never thought I would come to this. But then he would leave me alone. My story didn't need to be told. I could tell, but I didn't want to. They would find my story or not. It didn't matter.
To anyone who may be reading this for any charges...
The pages I ripped out and wrote—I hid it in an old jewelry box buried right behind my house in the backyard on the right of the flowerbed. If you really want to know what happened, you'll look there.
I'm sorry world. But goodbye.
Those are the last words. I don't know how long I've stared at them. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye—
I suddenly get up and rush down the stairs. My parents are asleep and they don't hear me. Before I leave the house, I scribble a quick note telling them where I've gone in case they wake up early. Then I leave the house.
The green notebook is still in my hands and I hold it tightly, as if holding onto a lifeline.
I have to find that sheet of paper that Winter has mentioned. I have to find it. I need to know the full story. I can't just live my life without knowing the complete story.
The bus is already there and I board it. The bus driver gives me an odd look and I remember that it's still very late or very early outside.
“Dealing drugs?” he jokes.
I only smile. If only he knew.
It takes a while to get there and I'm restless. I keep thinking about what I'll say and how it'll sound. Before my stop, I realize that I haven't changed from my clothes yet. But luckily, I'm still wearing the clothes that I had worn to Desiree's house.
When the bus drops me off, I almost run to my destination. I'm not even tired by the time I get to her house. I knock impatiently. After a few more knocks, she comes out, her brown hair messy and she's glaring at me.
In answer, I hold up the journal, showing her Winter's name. “I have something to tell you,” I say.