Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dear Diary Journal Notebook,

I guess I’m going to start this by saying I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know why I’m writing because they told me not to. The therapists and counselors and my family. Everyone. They say not to bottle my emotions up and that I should speak about it instead of write. Maybe that’s why I’m writing. Because they told me not to and I need a way to defy something . I’ve always been better at writing this shit out, so I might as well. 

Anyways everything sucks. And when someone reads a teenager’s diary or whatever and the words “everything sucks” are on there it usually means that they had a small fight with a parent or got a bad grade and fuck I wish that was the reason. But no. I’m not that fucking lucky. My best friend got fucking stabbed, her funeral is tomorrow, and I feel like a piece of shit for a multitude of reasons. 

In case someone comes and reads this I’m not going to say why the hearing of Mattie Wheeler bothers me, but I can’t help wondering if I’m going to regret this. I think I might already regret it. Fuck I know it’s too late, but I just… UGH

The other fucking reason is because I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t help Chess then, I can’t help her now or ever because she’s gone. She’s dead and I can’t do anything about it. Yet again I say: Fuck. It’s like I’m watching a movie. One of those really bad horror movies where the characters do all this stupid shit and you’re just yelling at the television as you helplessly watch. Except now I’ve been inserted into that show and I’m yelling from the inside as stupid shit happens around me and I still stand helpless. If only I’d heard her scream. She must have screamed, right? She must have been so scared. So alone. Because I left her like that. Alone. Now I’m alone and I just want to join you.

Dear Diary,

Can you tell me what’s happening, because I have no idea. The last time I wrote in you I was beaming about how Clark was driving me to the sleepover I didn’t want to go to, and complaining how Farrah didn’t know where she was. It was probably my shortest entry, but the one that was most painful to revisit. Admittedly I’m not the best with words and even now it's hard to write the right ones. I just… I don’t know. I’m feeling all these new emotions. And I have felt them before when I was little and lost my dad, but I was only seven. I was only seven and didn’t really grasp the concept of death beyond he wasn’t coming home. But now… I feel so much more.

I feel anger? Betrayal? I can’t find a reason of remorse because how could I? When I walked into that bathroom… my entire world snapped in half. They say your entire life flashes before your eyes when you die, but when you see someone die? I saw Clark’s eyes full of light as he proposed to me. I saw a ten year old Farrah sitting in a pillow fort surrounded by stuffed animals. I felt Clark lips on mine for the first time all over again, and my sister’s embrace after our dog died. He wanted to do so much with his life, and she had so many chances ahead to get better. 

But then I thought about it. And remember how close together they were. They betrayed me, my trust, and my religion. His funeral will have to go on without me as and I won’t be wearing black to mourn the dead. I pity them. I weep as I tear up my dead boyfriend’s sweatshirt. I sigh when I pass my deceased sister’s bedroom. I was forced to go to her funeral and wear the colors of death, but now breathe without the weight of the dead on my shoulders. I hope God can forgive them, for I can’t. Life moves on and I can’t be held back from the past. Everyone has their own way of grief, and that is mine. But again, it’s not grief. It’s simply moving on.

Dear Journal,

What do you want from me? Am I supposed to pour all my feelings out to you? Spill my secrets? Well I have none. I’m an open book and my life continues. I didn’t lose much, but I still feel the weight. I hear their voices. Farrah and Chess. They were fighting and I didn’t do anything about it because why the hell would I? There’s nothing I can do about the dead, and I do feel sorry for Kate and Annleigh who have to go through that, but I won’t let it get to me. 

School starts tomorrow and I can’t stop shaking. I’ve already heard rumors without a hallway full of kids and I’m sick of it. My parents have got me doing yoga because they’re worried I’m going to fight the first kid that talks shit about me, but I know I won’t. I won’t because I can’t. Because I know if I do it will only get worse and Riley is trying to keep the team together, as stupid as that sounds. I don’t really have any more words to share… No more thoughts because what else is there to think about? The girl that got sent to prison? She confessed. She hurt her own case and it’s better her than us. Better her than me. Just better. I’m done writing in this thing. 

Diary, 

I did it. It’s done and there is no going back now. I can’t exactly say what it is, but it’s not my proudest moment. It went pretty flawless though. Cairo was a really big help in a way she didn’t even know, and it made me even happier. You know, that night was probably the first time the Tigers actually worked as a team. We were like a machine, all doing our parts. It’s a shame we lost Mattie, but other than that, everything went according to plan. 

Scratch that. I didn’t really have a plan. It kind of just happened. I woke up that morning and decided what needed to happen, and it did. I assumed I would feel so much more remorse, but it’s more relief than anything. If I hadn’t been surprised by Clark, I don’t think I could’ve kept a shocked face. But then we found him, and for a second I actually got scared, And if I’m being honest, I’m still a little nervous. It had to have been someone on the team, right? No one broke into the house, the cops discovered that on their own. Maybe if I left a door open though… I mean how did he even get in? 

No matter. Life goes on and I’ve been fighting with the school board for the past week to let practice kick back up. They said we’d need more time to find ourselves. Whatever. Then even shot down my name change offer, but apparently it’s obscure and phoenix’s aren’t even real. Finally I discussed replacements with them, and they were stumped. I might have taken a step in to suggest a certain someone to join our team yesterday though, and I haven’t gotten any feedback yet, which means they are considering it! I just know that if Eva Sanchez joins our team we’ll  sky rocket to victory! Not to jinx it or anything, but I really think this is the Tiger’s year to shine.

Dear Diary, 

Hey there. Long time no see? Last time I wrote things were getting better, right? I got invited to the Tigers sleepover and started to get a little bit more hope for the upcoming year. It’s my last one, so I wanted to make it memorable. Well it’s definitely one for the history books… 

So last night some crazy stuff happened, and to make a really long story short, I did something horrible. Not on purpose! I would never try to hurt anybody! I wouldn’t hurt a fly! In fact, I don’t think I ever have hurt a fly. I always just shoo them away… Anyways, it’s really bad and I can’t go back and fix it. I just can’t. I’m so confused with everything going on and overall I’m just terrified that I’ll only make it worse. My heart broke into a thousand pieces when I saw Annleigh crying in that bathroom. And then when Cairo said that we should get our act together… I couldn’t say no because I had no other choice. I didn’t kill Chess or Farrah, but they could’ve turned it around on me! The weight is so heavy and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this a secret forever. I don’t know where to turn, so I just hope that this will all go away, and everyone can forgive me if they ever find out. 

Dear Diary,

I think my mom can read my mind. Obviously she can’t really, but she’s got some sort of telepathic powers because somehow she found out that something was wrong without speaking a single word to me. She told me she was going to the store and she came back with a blank book and new pen. She literally told me “this is the therapeutic substitute of therapy”. What the hell does that even mean?? Anyways…

I really don’t want to get into it (because I don’t want to think about it too much) but long story short I delivered pizza to a house that happened to have three dead people there. I got home late at night and turned on the news, checked my receipts, and sure enough I delivered pizza to the “murder squad”. That’s what the kids at West High are calling them; the murder squad. Giles Corey High School’s cheer team is definitely cursed, and I feel really bad. I don’t know exactly which girls… died, but I really hope it wasn’t either of the Tigers I talked to personally last night. That would be terrifying. Hopefully I never have to know though, because I do not plan on watching any more of those news broadcasts. My parents would fucking flip and make me quit my job. Not that I love working there, it’s just that it’s not easy for a 16 year old to find a good paying job that has reasonable hours. That would suck. 

I don’t really plan on writing in this again because I don’t think anything this eventful will happen again. I swear to god it better be the last time I write in this thing. Goodbye I guess??

Dear Diary, 

Tonight is the trial. I don’t really know how any of this is going to go, but I can’t stop crying. The lawyers told me to compose myself in the courtroom, but you try not crying after being accused of actual murder. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to keep this journal if I get sent to juvie. I don’t know anything. All I do know is that I’m scared and I want to go home. I’ve already slept in a cell for the past week and my bail is higher than my high school tuition. No one but my parents have come to visit me, and even they look scared. Like they wonder how their little girl could do so much harm to others. And I can’t help but wonder that myself. 

I keep having nightmares. Or the same one specifically. It’s Farrah and Chess. I see their faces (or a fog of them because it’s hard to remember a face after one night) and they’re screaming. Then I see the other one, Annleigh’s boyfriend. I see him yelling for help as well, but I can’t see his face. I only hear his voice and the shadow of him in a dark bathroom. Last I see myself. I see myself holding a knife with a face I can’t bring myself to describe. But it doesn’t look like me, but it is. And then the blood starts. It’s all over them and me. The healing scab on my forehead suggests fighting back from the others, that’s what the lawyers say anyways. I’ve only seen Cairo, Riley, and Kate so far in the case, but Reese and Annleigh are supposed to speak tomorrow. 

Oh crap. The words are all being smeared from the tears. Like I already said… I’ve been crying. But now I have to go because it’s time to eat, and the rules are strict. Bye for now. If all goes well, I’ll write in you tomorrow. Hope to see you then.