You ✔

Julie

It started off as a frantic day. 

She lied to me. This absolute idiot, she lied to me. She said she'd leave at seven, not five in the f*cking morning, and— she didn't even say—

"Julie, didn't you say Andy would be leaving today? Why didn't you—"

"I know, I know, okay? She lied to me. This absolute brain-dead moron lied to me. I don't know why," she said, close to tears. They were best friends. They had their differences in dealing with things, of course, but one thing they never — never — did was lie to each other about matters as big as this. Julie wasn't able to comprehend anything. She didn't understand — her mind wasn't able to come up with any valid excuse as to why Andy didn't want to give Julie her last hug, why she didn't want them both to suffer together about the way things were, why she just— left. She lied. And then left. 

"Julie, dear, come here," her mom called, her tone sounding like she was walking on eggshells. 

"No. I'm going—" I can't go to Andy's house. Bitter, angry tears threatened to pour down her face at the thought of it. She's not here. No more random visits just because she missed seeing Andy's face. No more impulsive surprises they usually gave each other. Andy was already miles away. Miles that would probably take a hundred light years to get through, Julie thought, her heart crying blood. I didn't tell her... F*ck, is this it? I had the time, but didn't have the courage. I had all the time in the world before this, I— I'm the worst human ever. And I was angry because she didn't tell me. I'm a f*cking hypocrite.

Without a word, her mom went over and embraced her. She didn't rub her back, didn't tell her it would be okay, didn't do anything — just breathed in the scent of her daughter's hair and let Julie know by her presence that it wasn't the end of the world.

"I'm going out," Julie announced after a while. At the moment, she needed some time alone, away from everyone, away from her own mind. But sadly, she had to take the latter along with her, no matter how much she detested the thought of doing so. 

"Be careful, yeah? Don't take too long."

Nodding, Julie left the house. 

Right when she opened the door, she noticed something on the floor. 

A notebook...?

She picked it up, fully prepared to return it to whosever it was — if she even could — because she clearly owned no book of the sort. And just as she did, she noticed a paper peeking out. She slowly pulled it out, hoping she could find the owner and return it safely to them.

It was blank. But she could see something written behind it. The moment she flipped the processed tree over, she saw a note. She could recognize that handwriting on her deathbed. 

"This notebook is for you to read. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Andy."

"What on earth?" she breathed out loud. Sorry? For what?

For some reason, Julie didn't open the notebook then and there. She clutched it tightly as if it would fly into the wind and get lost amongst the fine dust that floated carefreely in the air, paying no regards to anything that went on in the world. She walked over to the park where she had first seen Andy. It was her safe place. 

She sat in the same bench, vivid memories coming back to her all at once. She closed her eyes and let the tears flow. For a while, she sat there and let her body speak. To whom or what, she didn't know. 

Is this what it's going to be like every day from now? 

After delaying as long as she could, she decided to look through the souvenir Andy had left behind. She wasn't going to deny it to anyone — especially not to herself — she was scared. Terrified. What was she sorry for...?