Hello everyone! This is my third story so far and it's written in diary form (as you can see). I hope you like it.
December 15, 2000
Dear Diary,
I feel so guilty and frightened. The memory of that night haunts me in my dreams. I see her face everywhere I look, I can feel her watching me with every step I take. I can't believe I did this to her, she was so innocent, but I was jealous of her. Now my best friend is heartbroken and I have all the blame! My once pure hands are smeared with innocent blood and I can't imagine what made me tell him that she was run down by a truck. I always knew they loved each other, but he was is my childhood friend and he was slowly slipping away from me to be with her. I had to do something, and killing her was the best option to take.
December 17, 2000
Dear Diary,
My nightmares are getting worse. I can feel someone creeping into my bed at night, but when I look, there's no one there. I feel her following me, I hear her footsteps getting closer and closer, I feel her ghostly breath on my neck, I smell her fresh blood, I can hear her hoarse voice crying for help. I'm trapped in this hole and there's no way out, unless I tell him. My conscence screams at me to reveal to him what really happened, that I murdered her, but I can't bring myself to do so. I promised myself not to tell him anything, but if I do, maybe these things will stop and my mind will be at peace. I have to trust him, he'll understand if I tell him the truth. After all, we're best friend, right?
December 20, 2000
Dear Diary,
I cried myself to sleep last night. I finally had the courage to tell Yukki about how I put Hinata to her eternal sleep. About how I took her to the garage, lied to her about me wanting to show her something, tied her down forcefully into a wooden chair, about how I tortured her and stabbed her until all I could see was her fresh, dark red blood. I told him that at the moment it felt right, so right. I felt free and my hate was slowly creeping out of my heart and into my hands. At that time I felt myself getting dizzy from the rich, metallic smell. My vengeance was fullfilled. I enjoyed it, but I spent my nights in agony and guilt. He wouldn't believe me at first, but I swore to him that it was all true. He stared at me with a blank face for a long time that seemed like forever. I thought for a moment that he was in la-la land, but, as he released his first crystal tear, I could feel my heart shatter into pieces. He knew I hated to see him cry, but yesterday, I was the cause of his tears. I tried to hug him but he roughly pushed me away, screaming at me that I was insane, and that he hated me. He kept screaming at me, but I couldn't hear a shit he was saying. All I could see was his violet eyes glistining brightly with built up tears, proof of my actions. All I could hear was my consence saying, "This is what you deserve." All I could think was our childhood friendship is over. All I knew was that I had failed him, I failed our trust, and I failed myself. I then turned around slowly, but not before seeing him crash to the ground, hands in his tear stained face, remebering his loved one, and regretting ever calling me his best friend.
So here I am, in the Juvenile Prison, regretting everything that happened, and drowning silently in my sinful tears.
December 24, 2000
Dear Diary,
Not even in prison am I safe. Doesn't she have enough of this torture? My former best friend hates me, I'm in a stinky prison, My parents won't visit me or even have the decency to send me a letter. What else does she want? Rejection is worse than dying. Why can't she understand that? I feel like screaming until my throat hurts. My life is horrible because of her, but she won't make me go insane, I'm not that stupid. If she wants revenge, she can come get it, for all I care.
January 3, 2001
Dear Diary,
I'm starting to hate this place. The food is disgusting, the water tastes like mud with onion, the bathrooms are always dirty, we don't have water to take showers, and in every mirror I look I see my murderous stare. I want to get away from here now, two years is too long! Anyway, I met a girl, her name is, well, I don't know her name, they call her No. 6, that doesn't make sense at all. Her story was that she, in a moment of rage after finding out that her father was cheating on her mother, she cut her father, alive and tied up, into pieces and fed them to her two pitbulls. I don't judge her, but that is way too extreme. What am I talking about, I killed my former, I'm sad to say, best friend's girlfriend. Well, here my nickname is No.2. I have no idea why, but I like it, either way, I didn't give a shit about how they called me J. Yuno feels long forgotten. Heck, I don't even remember my last name. I feel numb and kind of stupid. Fucking lame. I'm slowly forgetting everything. It seems so far away, so unreal. I feel somewhat releaved. Anyway, I have to go, I have a visitor. I wonder who it is. BYE!
Jejeje, I wrote this in English class because it was an assignment. I didn't want it to go to waste so I changed it for it to fit into a Mirai Nikki strory. Please tell me if you liked it!