Journal

Six

When I was a young boy,

My father took me into the city

To see a marching band

He said "Son when you grow up,

would you be the saviour of the broken,

the beaten, and the damned?"

~ Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance)

Hey. I'm August. I guess I'm writing because I have a lot of shit bottled up inside that I don't feel like telling anyone that can actually speak.

I guess that's a really good thing about paper because it listens, but never tells. Unless it gets into the wrong hands. But I won't let that happen.

So... This is my life.

What did I do today? I hung out with Lily again. I don't really know. My friends tried to set me up with her, but I'm just not really feeling it. It just doesn't feel right, which is really bad because she's really nice. Is that bad? I know I shouldn't be asking you since you're just a piece of paper, but whatever. I feel like I can talk-er-write to you.

August

I quickly shut the journal and slammed my face into His pillow. I made sounds as if I was crying, but the tears wouldn't flow. I was a river run dry.

I listened to the thunder and pulled up His laptop, which was just His homepage screen with a picture of Us.

I fucking love Him.

I opened the Internet and logged onto His Netflix account, which was chockful of Phineas and Ferb episodes. I turned on the very first one and curled into a little ball. I drank in the scent of the blanket which smelled like Old Spice (We always loved those commercials) and His golden retriever, Henry. I heard Us laughing at all the right parts, felt Him putting my hands in the air like We were riding on the roller coaster, too, and tried to imitate Perry's voice. And He threw the blanket over Us and started singing the Spider-Man theme song over the Phineas and Ferb theme song.

I woke up on His pillow that still smelled like deoderant and dog, and I checked the time. 2:28

I unplugged my phone from my charger and typed away.

Hey, babe, I found your journal. And I know it's already too late, but I miss you so much. And I know why you don't likelike Lily. I won't tell you why because you already know why. And you killed yourself. Why did you kill yourself? I love you, but I don't understand.

Send?

Sent.