The Diary
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Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
852
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Diary
The Diary
Author: Lorella
E-mail: GirlShadowcat18@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: This is based on a true story
Warning: This is about a suicide and it’s not exactly a happy story.
Note: This story will be a one-shot there will be no second chapter ever, so please don’t ask. This is really only to get it off of my heart and onto the paper, even though it happened some years ago.
***
Dear Diary
Looking back today I still can’t see what happened. I still can’t even begin to grasp why it ended the way it did.
From the moment I was born I got to know this girl. Her name was Elin and she was the first real friend I ever made.
Sure she was a wild one and my parents got annoyed with her several times, but she was and still is one of the best friends I ever had. In fact I may even go as far as to say that nobody has ever known me better than she did. She knew everything about me, there wasn’t a single thing I kept hidden from her. I had absolutely no secrets from her, which is not something I can say about anyone else I know.
While we were young I don’t think even a single day went by without Elin and me spending a few hours together. (Well maybe except the times I spent in the hospital because of Asthma, but that’s not the point here.) We were almost connected by the hip the two of us. One of us could almost never be seen without the other, even though she was four years older than me.
Yes I know it sounds strange that an 8 year old girl would hang out with a 4 year old, but that’s the way it was. Where ever she went she brought me with her. We did so many crazy things together and I’m not even going to start writing it all down, because that would just make this drag on forever and ever. But we played games, pulled pranks on people around the neighborhood, or just sat around and talked for hours on end.
When I was six my dad got a job in a place far away from where I grew up, and my family had to move. It was one of the things I never wanted to do (even though it has turned out nicely). I tried everything to keep my family from moving, but despite the countless rages and tears, we still moved off. I remember the first time I came here. I didn’t know anyone but I made friends even the first day there. But nobody could ever quite replace Elin, and nobody has yet.
I always missed her, and we wrote countless letters back and forth as soon as I could write, and every autumn break, Christmas vacation and summer vacation I would visit her almost every day while we were visiting my grandmother. We would have so much fun, talking about things that had happened since the last time we met, and about things that we had done the last time I’d visited.
We would sit for hours on end and talk about anything and everything, and there wasn’t a single time where we didn’t share some sadness and frustrations, and several times we cried on each other’s shoulders. She knew absolutely everything there was to know about me. And thinking about it today I don’t think anyone will ever know me as well as she did. It’s not that I don’t have people I don’t trust these days, and have people I share my secrets with, but I can honestly say that nobody will ever know as much about me as she did, even though she left me eight years ago…
Everything was going nicely and every time I went to visit Elin we would sit and talk and laugh about old times, but then everything changed. Once day when I was in 6th grade my aunt called my house and talked to my mom. My mom spent a long time on the phone talking to her before she came into my room with a worried look on her face. I remember thinking that I didn’t want to hear what she was about to say, but I stayed quiet and listened carefully.
My mom looked at me for a moment before she started talking. She told me that my best friend in the entire world had gone missing, and that she’d been missing for about 10 days at the time. I just couldn’t believe what I heard; there was no way Elin could be missing. I remember crying myself to sleep that night, wishing and hoping that she was ok, or that maybe she’d just run away for a while because she was angry at her mother or something.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I would run to the mailbox as soon as the mail came, grabbing the local newspaper of the town we had moved from (yes my mom has it sent to our house.). Eagerly I’d flick through the pages praying that there’d be an article in there saying that Elin was ok, but more often I found articles saying that she still hadn’t been found and that the police were still looking for her and accepting clues about where she might be from anyone who thought they might have seen her somewhere. But as the weeks passed nothing new happened.
When the 64th day came my mom got another phone call from my aunt late one night. It was a school night and so I was already in bed. I was half asleep by the time my mom came up to my room. The look on her face was very glum, and I distinctly remember feeling my stomach turn into a knot and feeling cold. Of course the news was bad. Elin had been found, but she’d been dead. A person had come over her body by the river while he’d been out jogging one morning. Supposedly the look of her hadn’t been pretty. She’d been dead for two months when she was found. I don’t really know much about that exact part of it, and I’m really glad I don’t.
The funeral was going to take place that Thursday and this day was Tuesday. The next morning before school started I called one of my other best friends on the phone. I remember the call to some detail at least. I was sobbing while making the call and her big sister was the one to pick up the phone. I managed to choke out that I wanted to talk to my friend and I remember hearing her big sister muttering as she passed on the phone that she thought something was wrong. After that I can’t really remember much of that call except the fact that I was sobbing through it all and I asked her to tell my other friends that I’d be gone for a few days attending Elin’s funeral.
When we got to the town I used to live we only had one day before the funeral and I remember sitting idly in front of the TV the entire day. I just couldn’t get myself to do anything else. The night before the funeral I don’t think I even slept one minute. I just lay there tossing and turning all night waiting for what was to come the next day.
When the funeral started I remember trying to choke my own sorrow but not managing to do so. The church was full of people, mostly people from her school and her mom. I don’t remember much about the funeral really, only that at one point I got angry, yet of course I didn’t say anything. The thing that made me angry was when one of her classmates was supposed to talk about her. She was talking about the Elin she’d known, but from my point of view she hadn’t known Elin at all. None of the ones from her school that talked about her had. They all described her as a very quiet and shy girl, who always sat quietly in class. They also said that she’d been quiet in her spare time. But knowing her as well as I did I knew that that wasn’t a correct description of her at all. None of them seemed to have bothered to get to know her. Because the real Elin was quite the opposite of what they were describing her as. She was the most happy, enjoyable person I’ve ever met. She was nothing like they explained her.
After that time I’ve been back visiting her grave many times, but what I do not understand was why she committed suicide at all. Nobody knows, not even her mother. But now her mother is gone from this world as well. She died of cancer a few years ago. What tears me up the most about this is that there is no explanation at all to why she did what she did… It is something I’ll never know…
I miss her more than anything in the world, even now after over eight years. She was my best friend in the world and nobody can ever replace her in my heart.
Author: Lorella
E-mail: GirlShadowcat18@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: This is based on a true story
Warning: This is about a suicide and it’s not exactly a happy story.
Note: This story will be a one-shot there will be no second chapter ever, so please don’t ask. This is really only to get it off of my heart and onto the paper, even though it happened some years ago.
***
Dear Diary
Looking back today I still can’t see what happened. I still can’t even begin to grasp why it ended the way it did.
From the moment I was born I got to know this girl. Her name was Elin and she was the first real friend I ever made.
Sure she was a wild one and my parents got annoyed with her several times, but she was and still is one of the best friends I ever had. In fact I may even go as far as to say that nobody has ever known me better than she did. She knew everything about me, there wasn’t a single thing I kept hidden from her. I had absolutely no secrets from her, which is not something I can say about anyone else I know.
While we were young I don’t think even a single day went by without Elin and me spending a few hours together. (Well maybe except the times I spent in the hospital because of Asthma, but that’s not the point here.) We were almost connected by the hip the two of us. One of us could almost never be seen without the other, even though she was four years older than me.
Yes I know it sounds strange that an 8 year old girl would hang out with a 4 year old, but that’s the way it was. Where ever she went she brought me with her. We did so many crazy things together and I’m not even going to start writing it all down, because that would just make this drag on forever and ever. But we played games, pulled pranks on people around the neighborhood, or just sat around and talked for hours on end.
When I was six my dad got a job in a place far away from where I grew up, and my family had to move. It was one of the things I never wanted to do (even though it has turned out nicely). I tried everything to keep my family from moving, but despite the countless rages and tears, we still moved off. I remember the first time I came here. I didn’t know anyone but I made friends even the first day there. But nobody could ever quite replace Elin, and nobody has yet.
I always missed her, and we wrote countless letters back and forth as soon as I could write, and every autumn break, Christmas vacation and summer vacation I would visit her almost every day while we were visiting my grandmother. We would have so much fun, talking about things that had happened since the last time we met, and about things that we had done the last time I’d visited.
We would sit for hours on end and talk about anything and everything, and there wasn’t a single time where we didn’t share some sadness and frustrations, and several times we cried on each other’s shoulders. She knew absolutely everything there was to know about me. And thinking about it today I don’t think anyone will ever know me as well as she did. It’s not that I don’t have people I don’t trust these days, and have people I share my secrets with, but I can honestly say that nobody will ever know as much about me as she did, even though she left me eight years ago…
Everything was going nicely and every time I went to visit Elin we would sit and talk and laugh about old times, but then everything changed. Once day when I was in 6th grade my aunt called my house and talked to my mom. My mom spent a long time on the phone talking to her before she came into my room with a worried look on her face. I remember thinking that I didn’t want to hear what she was about to say, but I stayed quiet and listened carefully.
My mom looked at me for a moment before she started talking. She told me that my best friend in the entire world had gone missing, and that she’d been missing for about 10 days at the time. I just couldn’t believe what I heard; there was no way Elin could be missing. I remember crying myself to sleep that night, wishing and hoping that she was ok, or that maybe she’d just run away for a while because she was angry at her mother or something.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I would run to the mailbox as soon as the mail came, grabbing the local newspaper of the town we had moved from (yes my mom has it sent to our house.). Eagerly I’d flick through the pages praying that there’d be an article in there saying that Elin was ok, but more often I found articles saying that she still hadn’t been found and that the police were still looking for her and accepting clues about where she might be from anyone who thought they might have seen her somewhere. But as the weeks passed nothing new happened.
When the 64th day came my mom got another phone call from my aunt late one night. It was a school night and so I was already in bed. I was half asleep by the time my mom came up to my room. The look on her face was very glum, and I distinctly remember feeling my stomach turn into a knot and feeling cold. Of course the news was bad. Elin had been found, but she’d been dead. A person had come over her body by the river while he’d been out jogging one morning. Supposedly the look of her hadn’t been pretty. She’d been dead for two months when she was found. I don’t really know much about that exact part of it, and I’m really glad I don’t.
The funeral was going to take place that Thursday and this day was Tuesday. The next morning before school started I called one of my other best friends on the phone. I remember the call to some detail at least. I was sobbing while making the call and her big sister was the one to pick up the phone. I managed to choke out that I wanted to talk to my friend and I remember hearing her big sister muttering as she passed on the phone that she thought something was wrong. After that I can’t really remember much of that call except the fact that I was sobbing through it all and I asked her to tell my other friends that I’d be gone for a few days attending Elin’s funeral.
When we got to the town I used to live we only had one day before the funeral and I remember sitting idly in front of the TV the entire day. I just couldn’t get myself to do anything else. The night before the funeral I don’t think I even slept one minute. I just lay there tossing and turning all night waiting for what was to come the next day.
When the funeral started I remember trying to choke my own sorrow but not managing to do so. The church was full of people, mostly people from her school and her mom. I don’t remember much about the funeral really, only that at one point I got angry, yet of course I didn’t say anything. The thing that made me angry was when one of her classmates was supposed to talk about her. She was talking about the Elin she’d known, but from my point of view she hadn’t known Elin at all. None of the ones from her school that talked about her had. They all described her as a very quiet and shy girl, who always sat quietly in class. They also said that she’d been quiet in her spare time. But knowing her as well as I did I knew that that wasn’t a correct description of her at all. None of them seemed to have bothered to get to know her. Because the real Elin was quite the opposite of what they were describing her as. She was the most happy, enjoyable person I’ve ever met. She was nothing like they explained her.
After that time I’ve been back visiting her grave many times, but what I do not understand was why she committed suicide at all. Nobody knows, not even her mother. But now her mother is gone from this world as well. She died of cancer a few years ago. What tears me up the most about this is that there is no explanation at all to why she did what she did… It is something I’ll never know…
I miss her more than anything in the world, even now after over eight years. She was my best friend in the world and nobody can ever replace her in my heart.