As A Cliché: A Short Story

Katie's Diary: 1 year without Jax.

Jax's POV

I've read one year into Katie's diary, everything isn't the same though, she's given up all of her favorite things, she even dropped out of the art club.

I sat down on my bed with her diary in my hands. I had a baseball game today and I'm totally tired, but still I wanted to get a few pages in before bed.

KATIES DIARY

They're worried about me.

My parents have been home longer than they've been in the last seven years of my life. They look at me as if I'm a rabid animal. They treat me like I'm in a freaking insane asylum!

I've overheard them talking about pulling me out of school, re designing my closet, I've heard the words home for troubled girls.

It scares me. They think I've changed but really they're just suddenly interested in my life.

Sitting at my window, the snow outside matched my new moods, cold. Snow is so cliche. Everyone's so happy when they see this white powdery stuff, floating down so beautifully. It doesn't deserve the credit it gets, but you know what does? Rain. Rain make your converse dirty when you walk through mud, it makes the sky grey, the animals go into hiding, you feel sad and lethargic. Yet rain also helps you stay sane. It created a steady, solid beat against the roof, telling you that something is there in the world, not just emptiness. Snow doesn't do that. It's silent not washing away your problems like rain, just freezing them, but everyone knows once everything thaws again, the problem will still be there.

I snapped my head towards the door, waiting for my mother to knock, I could see her shadow through the small gap at the bottom of the door. It's been getting worse, it feels like I can sense everything that's about to happen, as if my aura is out of control.

"Honey?" I frowned at her endearment that was faker than her cheekbones.

When I didn't respond in any way she walked in sat down on the edge of my bed.

"I was just going to go to the grocery store, do you want anything"

I shook my head silently. She's been doing this almost everyday, and she doesn't even go to the store if I say no.

My parents are still distant as ever, they aren't truly concerned with me, all they do is ask if I need anything and when I refuse they go work on their business while a child psychologist writes down things to do with me.

"Ok, just call if you need anything" she told me, even though everyone knows I won't.

But that's not what the doctor says to do, apparently it's the thought of asking that counts not interacting with your child.

The door closed quietly, leaving me all to myself.

I got up from my window seat and pulled open the doors to my closet.

The battered and worn black hoodie was the only thing hanging, I don't wear any other jacket, just that one.

I slipped it over my head and walked downstairs.

Passing the offices my parents saw me and their faces took on concerned looks. They don't know where I go, and yet still they make no effort to stop me.

I grabbed my duffel bag from the closet and opened the front door.

The cold wind blew past me, making me shiver as snow stuck to me.

My Mercedes was parked out in the cold so when I got in the leather seats felt frozen but I didn't mind.

I quickly pulled out of the small drive and drive somewhat recklessly down the slick streets.