Gone

Prolouge

July 5, 1941

Dear Diary,
Hey! Diaries are not just for girls! Anyway, this was a birthday gift from the President yesterday. He thought it would good for me to be able to express my feelings without having to talk to people, also because I ran out of room in my old one. So this is a thing I guess. Maybe he's right. Ever since the Great Depression, I haven't felt the same. I mean I guess I was like this before but the depression is what brought it out. I know it's bad but maybe this whole diary thing will help me from doing anything drastic? Although like I said it's pretty bad, especially since the Second World War, even though I'm trying to stay out of it...
<><><><><>
December 8, 1941

Dear Diary,
I know I didn't write yesterday. I couldn't. Hell, I barely can now. Everything hurts. Mostly my heart. Japan, who I thought was my friend, attacked me. I guess I was wrong. It's always like this. I always end up getting hurt...it hurts so much. I don't like it. How would he feel if he hurt like this? I should show him how bad I hurt. Not just physically...emotionally.

I can't.

If I made Japan feel how I do...he would never recover. It would always be there.

Like the aftereffects of a devastating bomb that never can be fixed...

no matter how hard anyone tries...
<><><><><>
August 10, 1945

Dear Diary,
I gave him the opportunity to surrender. I told him what would happen if he didn't.

Drastic measures.

He still chose not to surrender though. That's when the first one was dropped. When I asked again to surrender, Japan continued to refuse. We dropped the second one.

Two. It took two atomic bombs for his surrender. The devastation will always be there. I guess I actually did make him feel how I felt.

But he can heal. Sure Japan will have pretty nasty scars but he will heal.

...unlike me...
<><><><><>
July 21, 1966

Dear Diary,
The Vietnam War. Once again I try to be helpful but only end up getting hurt...

again.

The people don't like it. No one ever likes war but this time it's insane. Returning soldiers get beat, abused mentally and physically. The suicide rates for returning soldiers have gone up over 70%. As a nation, I feel it all. Maybe I'm just using this as an excuse to get away with it but...

I started cutting again.

I used to cut. Mainly during the Great Depression but eventually stopped to focus on WWI. You can actually still see the scars. By the time WWII came around, I had needed a way to release everything that was pent up through WWI.

Now it's getting worse.

It's more of an escape if anything. I know I should stop but I can't. It just feels so right.
<><><><><>
October 11, 2001

Dear Diary,
It's been over a month since the attacks. I never felt so...

What? What am I feeling? I don't know. That's the problem. I don't feel anything anymore. No happiness. No joy.

Of course no one notices. They only see what I want them to see. I've become good at putting up masks. They don't notice how skinny I am. How I never take off my bomber jacket even when it's incredibly warm.

They don't notice and they don't care.

I'm sick. Sick physically and in my head.

...and nobody notices.

~~~~~
AN: Small tags for the people who helped inspire me to write this-

@Rory-Kirkland
@DisturbedFish
@Crazygurl667
@Silverlifewolf