I decided to sync Aimee's journal entries with the days of this year. So I held off reading for a few days, until today's date and the journal's date matched. Exactly a year ago Aimee was sitting in he room, trying to escape the madness of her house, and she wrote her words across a page in a journal.
April 12,
It's Celeste's birthday today. I should tell her that 16 sucks.
If she were here right now, I would tell her that seventeen isn't much better, but I figured she would've figured that out anyway.
I hear my mom coming down the hallway. She's going to come in my room.
"I should've closed the door.", I mumble under my breath. But I'm to lazy to get up and close it.
"What was that, Celeste?", my mother peeks her head around.
I glare at her. "Nothing."
"Was that Aimee's?", she points to the journal in my hand, changing the subject.
Like she wouldn't know. I know she goes around my room while I'm gone. I say nothing.
"You don't have to go to that therapist anymore...not if you don't want to.", she says suddenly.
"I never wanted to go in the first place."
It's only then that I feel I have the energy to get up and close the door.
YOU ARE READING
her words.
Teen FictionTRIGGER WARNING: suicide, depression & a hell of a lot of stupid thing like slut shaming bc 15 year old me was an idiot. '"Here.", said her mother as she handed me the notebook. "She wanted you to have this." Without saying another word she wiped...
