1967
dear diary,
today is the day that i can claim freedom, the day that i can finally smile after two years of frowning. the day that i can go home to jade.
she's pretty much the only thing that's kept me sane these past two years, but as the cell door of mine was opened and the female guard who has since become my friend smiled at me, i began to feel uneasy.
what if she's changed, what if she's forgotten me, what if the feelings that i assumed she had for me were all in my head? or what if they were real, but she's moved on from the girl in high school who kissed her before disappearing.
i didn't get to say goodbye, or even a 'see you soon'.
the drive home in a taxi was quiet and lonely. if only my mum or dad could collect me, but that would be impossible as they were killed in a police riot. many people died that night, other people lost their parents, their children, their friends, their lovers. and the outcome was simply jail for those who weren't murdered.
anyway, i finally got to my old flat and my first instinct was to cry, however the tears didn't come - making me feel extremely guilty. i should be able to mourn my parents death. my eyes stayed dry as i dropped my bags next to the sofa and began to wander aimlessly around. my bedroom was still the same, with fairy lights hanging on the wall, dodging the photos that i also stuck up to make it look a little less bare on the small wall.
i'll probably move to my parents old room - for at least they could fit more than just a single bed in there.
after i had finally finished moping around and packed away my very few items, i looked in the cupboards to find nothing to eat. luckily, my parents left a will, leaving every last possession of theirs to me, including their life savings. it's obvious that they knew they were going to die in that stupid riot.
so, i grabbed the money from the jar shaped like a cat and put my worn out black boots on. my hair was ratty but i didn't care, nobody would remember me from two years ago anyway.
luckily, the shop wasn't too busy when i stepped in. the bell at the door made me jump a little, and the old guy sat at the counter looked at me like i was crazy. a few men walked out once they saw me, but i brushed them off and looked for a loaf of bread.
i noticed a few stares on me, but didn't think much of it. i was used to it from here, and if people did recognise me it would make them worse, for even though being gay is legal now; it doesn't change people's opinions.
an old lady in particular was very interested in me, following me around the shop and not even bothering to drop her stare when i glanced over. when she grabbed my arm and pulled me back, i let out a quiet squeak.
"you're leigh-anne pinnock?" she asked, her faded, blue eyes watering. i nodded, not being able to trust my own voice. she let out a quiet sigh and dabbed her cheeks with a floral print handkerchief.
"you're jade's lover." my eyes lit up at the mentioning of jade's name, leaving me more excited than ever.
"where is she?" i asked, putting the bread back on the shelf in fear of dropping it. she shook her head once and blew her nose into the handkerchief.
"you'll never see her again. they said that she was crazy, she claimed it was a broken heart. they were going to put her into a mental asylum, so she hung herself with the shower head in her bathroom."
i felt every bit of air left in my lungs get knocked out of me, and my vision went white for a second.
"she loved you, miss," she stated with a sad smile. i didn't know who the woman was, and i didn't care to know as i sprinted out of the shop with tears in my eyes and her voice in my ears.
she hung herself with the shower head in her bathroom.
she hung herself with the shower head.
she hung herself.
as the pictures of my jade flooded my mind, they all seemed to morph into sickening ones of her lonely, of her with ratty hair and tired eyes. of her taking her final breath. i squeezed my eyes shut and sprinted home to my bathroom.
i'm running the water.
i'm getting the toaster.
i'm going to see her again.
the water is run.
the toaster is plugged in.
i'm going to see her again.
my hands are shaking.
i can barely read my own writing.
but, i'm going to see her again.
i'm getting into the water.
i'm picking up the toaster.
darling, i'm going to see you again.
leigh x
