17 Things I Found In Your Bedroom

Chapter 5 Part 1

I stare at the book. The diary Ace gave me, lying dormant on the bedside table.

Although the contents probably isn't dormant.

"Open it." I whisper to myself. My hand doesn't move. "Go on, hand, you can do it." I shake my head at my own stupidity, talking to my hand. "Okay... now!" I lift the front cover with one swipe of my hand and my eyes flutter first to the key taped to the inside cover, then to his neat, precise handwriting.

May 13th 2015

Hey, Claire.

You will not cry...

I guess that since you're reading this, I actually did it. I actually died.

Sweetheart, I can tell you now, it was not a random decision, and it wasn't your fault either. You have to understand I'm really good at pretending, but I'm not an actor.

You and I both know I was distant... probably in the last week, I'd say. Of course, I don't know. I'm writing this in May, and I've only just now had the inspiration to write a diary.

It's for you, and only you. I just want to give you closure, and maybe ask a few favours along the way. I'm going to explain everything, because you deserve just that. An explanation.

Right now, I'm sitting on our Bench. I think you're working; you literally got the job at the supermarket yesterday. I was just thinking- there is so much significance to the number seventeen in my life. It's my age, a date, a number... that probably seems irrelevant, but it will make perfect sense in the rest of this diary.

I remember that day. We met up first before I left for my new job, and Ace gave me a charm for my bracelet with a leprechaun on it; his way of saying good luck.

The stories in here are... well, there not all rainbows and butterflies. They're brutal, and they happened. And I'm so, so sorry they did. I would do anything to take them back... but I can't.

My conscience knows this, so I kept an item from each. And I will continue to until the day I die. If you're reading this, then I reached my limit.

Well, the items are all in my room somewhere. It's some sick game, but there's a purpose. And it's all for you.

I should probably start with the beginning.

I take a shaky breath. He wrote this diary... for me. I don't know if it is a diary anymore, surely if it's for someone else, it's not a diary. Ace sounds so much different on paper. Or maybe I just got used to new Ace, I didn't think about the old, carefree one. The one with a guitar and top hat.

What irks me more, though, if the fact that he knew he was going to die, and he didn't tell me. Maybe if I pressed harder, he would still be here. Maybe if I told someone...

So it was this year, early February, late January time. I never told you because... well, I don't actually know why I didn't, and I regret it now. I should tell you tomorrow, but I can't. I buried it deep down when it happened, and now it's resurfacing and I don't want it to.

Oh God, I should've tried harder...

Here I am, stalling.

I told you my parents split because of financial disagreements and shit. That... wasn't exactly the truth. I mean, we had money problems, but that's not why they split.

My Grandma passed away that winter, and you knew about that because I called you straight away, and you brought over coffee and we just sat there crying on the front porch, me telling you all kinds of stories about her- the good, the bad and the ugly.

"And it was really weird, because she didn't have a selfie stick, but her profile picture was taken far from her face, and it was obvious she took it." I chuckled, taking another swig of the strong expresso from its To-Go cup.

"The closest thing to a selfie my Gran could take is the back of someone else's head. She doesn't even know how to use the camera on her flip phone. No, scratch that, she doesn't know how to turn on her flip phone." You laughed, resting your elbows on your knees. The wind blew your hair out of your face, and despite the fact Gran had just passed, there were smiles on both our faces. Just reminiscing on old times always made you laugh, and so it made me laugh to. And now it was reversed, and everything was fine again.

"God only knows who told her about Facebook..." I trailed off, looking into the distance. We could both hear mum's quiet sobs from upstairs. They were nearly always there, but that day they were noticeable. I saw you had pulled out your phone from your back pocket and were scrolling through it. When you saw me looking, you tilted the screen so I could see the profile you had just pulled up. Gran's face smiled across the white screen.

Your finger slowly glided up the phone, so we could see more of Gran's posts. We laughed at some, cried at others. It was funny, you said, when we came across a Tumblr quote about how school had changed so much from the 'good ol' days', and then another with the words, 'I have met many pricks in my time, but you, Sir, are a fucking cactus.'

She was like a second mother to me. I mean, my mum obviously raised me, but Gran was the one who gave me sweets when I fell, and babysat me whilst mum was working her ass off trying to get enough money to feed us. Dad would be at a conference somewhere, hoping for a promotion which he never got, but Gran was always there.

Anyway, my mum went into slight depression when she left us and went up to the clouds. The better place, is what she always called it.

Dad was... well, he wasn't very sympathetic. His parents were never there for him, and he went into the foster system at five years old. He just didn't get it, and he would get really mad because mum wasn't going to work, and we had even less money than before. I wasn't busking, trying to help mum out around the house because she wasn't really capable of much.

This isn't anything cliché; he didn't turn up one night drunk and hit us. He didn't cheat on mum.

He just left us. Set some bills on the counter, and a small note telling us he wasn't coming back. It's not something I did, but it hurt me. A lot. And although it's not the main reason I killed myself, it was the thing that started it. If my dad had been there through the other times I'll tell you about, it might not have happened. Less blood would've been spilled, and I wouldn't have tainted the people I love. This is where the first item comes in. Go to my room, into the dresser in the far corner of the room- you know the one, with the CD player and IPod speaker on it. Open the first draw down.

Until next time,

Ace x

2O

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