thomasawyer
Hello. My name is Rih. Or... that's what she calls herself when she writes to me. I'm her diary, her quiet companion, the one she trusts with every fleeting thought, every high, every low. Some days, I sit on her desk untouched, while her mind races a thousand miles away. Other days, my pages are soaked in her late-night scribbles, her confusions, her hopes.
I've seen her laugh alone, cry silently, wonder about friendships that drifted, and dreams that seemed just out of reach. I've felt the weight of her ambition and the sting of rejection. I hold fragments of her past - flashbacks of carefree days, of laughter that once felt endless, of words said and unsaid. And every day, I wait. Waiting for her to sit in front of me, pen in hand, ready to let the world slip away while she tells me her story.
This is that story. Her story. And I'm here, page after page, to hold it all.
So... what are you waiting for? Open me. Let her story begin.