The Untitled

Chapter two

Tapping at the play button repeatedly I wasn't satisfied. I wanted to see her in person. Right now.

I was wearing her purple hoodie. Don't judge me again. She was my tomboy. She didn't like the girly purple. This was her swag purple. That's what she had told me once.

Henry the five came whining to my leg. He snuggled coldly to me. He too missed her presence.

If I was to go by her thinking, she would be jumping right now from no where and screaming, "Gotcha!" But she had destroyed her ice cream book to bits. It lied in the garage, torn. She had this weird habit to write the name of every ice cream she ate and describe it in her own words. She did all this in her ice cream book. Or that is what we called it.

I had gathered all the ruins of the book. It was to be my most treasured torn and tattered book.

What would I do of the converse I bought for her? It was to be the 20th in her collection.

What would be the fate of the half eaten bowl of cookie dough ice cream still kept in the refrigerator? Though everyone were aware of her bad habit of having ice cream when the clock read beyond midnight, nobody did protest against it.

Turning eighteen horrified her. She never intended to turn into an adult. And as always she got what she wanted.

Wish she had told me about it. Wish she had shared her problems with me. I am a bad boyfriend. How can I not know about my dear girl's problems? How didn't I figure out that something was wrong? Was she so good at hiding her problems? Or were we all so blind to see?

I needed answers. And those would only be obtained through her dearest personal diary.

Am sorry dear, but I got to do this.

I got to open your personal diary without your permission.

I rummaged through her wardrobe to find the diary. She must have hidden it in some super common place. I have no shame to say it was the drawer where she kept her inner wear.

Picking it up, there fell a bunch of papers. I collected them all and sat by the bed.

I had locked the door. Though this was her room and being alone in her room was weird, I felt her presence more strong out here.

Her smell was so strong that it felt as if she had just come back to collect something she had left behind.

The papers were of all possible sizes and shapes.

The cover of the diary read 2013-14.

This wasn't her recent diary. This filled me with disappointment. She was careful enough to leave no trail.

This was so pre-planned that it hurt me to even imagine her sit alone and planning this escape, this final escape in the middle of the night.

The papers were the chits we shared in the past few years. It brought a small smile on my face. It felt as if I smiled after years.

I laughed at my own foolishness.

Hey chica,
You pretty.
Your secret admirer.

This one was written two years back.

Hey babe,
Coffee?
Your secret admirer.

Was I a mad man before? This is how you ask a girl out.

But this all proved that she liked me all along.

But suddenly the smile turned into a frown. She was no more. She didn't exist any longer. She'll never leave my heart but physically I've lost her warmth.

She was my sunlight on a snowy day.

She was the cutie pie of my life.

She was all I existed for.

I guess I should become non existent too.

Just disappear.

Babe, listen to me.

Yea? Tell me.

What if I run away?

Am I so bad my buttercup?

Oh my darling, I was just asking.

This freaked me out. It was a conversation from last year. She had come to my place to babysit her Lil bundle of joy.

She had tried sharing it with me. She did try. I was blind not to see.

I felt guilty. I felt empty. I felt hollow. I felt worthless. I am bad. I blame myself.

I killed her. It was me. I didn't save her.

A part of me died with her.