Dear Katharine

November 09, 20xx

TW: this entry could be a trigger. If you feel like your mental health could he affected, I advise you to read no further.

Nov. 09, 20xx
9:09pm

Dear Kath,

Classes have begun today. Jenna was the talk of the school. As expected, they all blamed her. I didn't want to hear about them. These people don't know any better.
The only good thing about school is that Mrs. Chavez has returned so goodbye Mr. Chua. Although he still works there and Mrs. Chavez is still boring as can be, at least Rhea can study science in peace now. We also have a new art teacher named Mr. Santos because our former music and arts teacher resigned. He seems cool. He said every second and fourth Wednesdays of the month we will draw an artwork to whatever we feel. Mr. Santos wants us to express ourselves using art which is exciting. As you know, I like to draw, but all I do is doodle and I feel like I'm terrible compared to other artists my age. I'm not even sure if I'm an artist.
By the way, our passports have arrived today. We've applied for them for over a year along with our visas, but that will take longer. That's how slow the system is here in the Philippines, unless you have the bucks to pay someone who can speed up the process. Mama knows a friend who has a cousin whose husband works in the Canadian embassy. He doesn't only quicken the procedures but fixes things to skip the interview. My parents discussed contacting this guy, but we have to empty Papa's bank savings for him to help us. So after weighing the cost, they think it's not the wisest decision to migrate without sufficient funds considering the expenses once we live in Canada.
"We will have to be patient. Besides, it's illegal anyway," Papa said. I don't mind staying in the Philippines. I love this country. It's true that there are many problems this third-world country still has to solve, but I want to see the solution unfold in front of my eyes. But I don't want Papa to be alone in a foreign country even if he has stayed there for almost six years now.
Growing up without a father is tough. Imagine, there is no check and balance when my nagging mother has crossed the line in disciplining her teenage daughter. Yesterday, she told me to go straight at home because of all the killings on the street has brought back her concerns on safety. I reminded her she approves of those killings, and that she's a diehard supporter of the leader who wages this war. Mama felt so attacked by my reminder that she threatened to take away my phone, and she commanded me to stop visiting Jenna.
"Jenna is my friend. I don't abandon my friends!" I lashed out at her and didn't hear the what she had to say because I left to pay Jenna a visit. And I didn't go home until eight o'clock at night because I was with Chard a while ago.
I hate that everything in my life is falling apart! Ugh! I want to scream but I don't want anyone to hear. I want to have a mental breakdown at school but I don't want anyone to see. I want to die but I don't want to feel the pain of dying nor hurt anyone in my family because I know grieving is difficult.
Chard already messaged me. We'll spend all night chatting to keep me away from overthinking. Good night.