Emily Shimon's Diary

Chapter 1

JAKE'S POV

It was a regular Thursday. Pop quiz in Physics, notes in Trigonometry, and a presentation in English Honers. I was methodically taking notes in when the phone rang. My teacher reached for it, and listened for a bit. Mrs. Arles' voice became sadder as the conversation went on. The room became silent, then small conversations started up. I tapped my pencil against my desk impatiently.

"I will send him up right away." Mrs. Arles looked at me."Jake, take your things and head to the counselor's office. I will send the notes to you tonight." I quickly cleaned up my area and stood up. As I walked through the door, Mrs. Arles stopped me for a second. "I'm sorry, Jack."

My brow furrowed, I start to walk to the offices. Why would Mrs. Arles be so sad? Maybe something happened to my family. Sarah or Matt could have been hurt while walking to school. Or my mom was at the hospital for a car crash.I'm so preoccupied with my thoughts that I stop walking for a second.

"Hey, Erwood, keep moving." I turn around and see Zari stand in the middle of the hallway. Her bookbag slung over her shoulder, hands on her hips.

"Zari, be quiet! There's classes going on right now." Laya's voice comes from behind her. David stands next to Laya quietly. Zari rolls her eyes.

Zari, David, and Laya. Three friends of Em's. Zari was the loud, crazy person who almost got us in trouble many times. Emily would laugh along and help plan Zari's schemes, while Laya tried to stop them. As I watched the chaos unfold, David would wheedle us out of trouble. We were inseparable when Em lived here. But when she moved, the group became less close, with us slowly going our separate ways.

Why would they be out here too? Were they being called to the counselor's office as well?

"Fine. Let's go." Zari pouts. With my mind even more muddled, I walk in the lead to the office. I knock on the door.

Ms. Smith's voice filters through the wooden door. "Come in."

We all step into the room. Dim lights hung from the ceiling, with posters crammed on the wall, one on top of the other. Ms. Smith's room was a proverbial mess, with mismatched chairs and a cluttered desk. She was standing at the window, staring out to the trees. Ms. Smith turned around as the door clicked shut. She was a young counselor, around 30 years old. Coming to the school around 2 years ago, she Ms. Smith brushed her hands off on her cardigan, and adjusted her glasses.

"Sit down." My (what do I even call them? friends?) friends and I sat down on the couch and recliners. Ms. Smith herself sat down in a huge leather recliner. "I need to confirm something. You are all good students, with good grades. You will graduate. And you aren't in trouble. Were you all good friends with Emily Shimon? Well, besides you Jack. You were both dating, correct?"

We all nod. Something doesn't feel right about the way she had asked that. Something that unsettled my stomach. And I could see David, Zari, and Laya had thought so too. We looked at each other in confusion, until Laya froze up.

"What do you mean, were good friend?" Laya asked. Ms. Smith slowly looked down. Her hands started to twist up the fabric of her cardigan. Red. She starts to blink rapidly. "You're talking about Em in past tense...."

Ms. Smith's voice starts to shake. "Emily was an amazing girl. She had such a bright future, and I wish that this didn't happen. Her family should have been the ones to tell this to you, but Emily specified that they be told as soon as possible." Ms. Smith sighs sadly, and rubs her eyes slightly. "Yesterday, her parents entered her room. Emily was lying on the bed with bottles of alcohol and pills next to her. She didn't wake up... Emily committed suicide last night."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm so sorry that this chapter sucks T-T. I'm fighting through a major writer's block, so it's a little hard to connect events and dialogue. But I really wanted to post another chapter.... Do you see my problem?

Anyways thanks for reading this, and for picking this (crappy) story out of the millions on this site!

Love, Class, and Whoop Ass