AN: Trigger warning for suicide and cutting, not too graphic.
Chapter One
February 12, 1986:
She is a compulsive paper flower maker. Every day I can't help but watch her from two seats over. We sit at the back of the room, and I don't think anyone else has studied her quite like me. She's spent every day tearing out old scratch paper to meticulously fold and shape until it matches the others.
And at the end of class, after she's created around six or seven, she will slide them off the desk to land in the opening of her backpack.
She could probably bury herself six-foot under.
February 13, 1986:
Things don't feel the same today for some reason. She's not folding paper but instead staring out the window. Being in the middle of winter, it's actually warm for a chance, but she's still wearing a sweater.
It takes all but five seconds to realize the teacher is calling my name, and a set of emerald orbs lock onto mine. It's the first I've ever seen them directed towards me. She notices me watching and she shifts almost unconsciously – in the process – shoving her sleeves up revealing a line of several slits. Some white and some more red with jagged lines.
I know she's seen my line of vision.
February 14, 1986:
It's Valentine's Day, which means another year of plastering on a smile while being alone once more. To make it worse the seat is empty two spots over.
Oh well, so far I've gotten a box of chocolates from my ma and pa and a simplistic card from my one true friend.
February 15, 1986:
Even though it's early Saturday, my ma comes barging through the door with a package held straight out to me. On it written in jet black ink is 'Sorry I'm a day late and among other things.'
I don't recognize the handwriting and there's no return address. It's a big box about the size of a milk crate, but it couldn't weigh more than one pound.
I open it to reveal hundreds of folded flowers. I'm about to cry when my ma interrupts to say something about me having an admirer.
Later that night when no one is hovering around, I bring the box out from under my bed where I stashed it from prying eyes.
I begin counting the flowers. Amongst the flowers there is one random butterfly. I'm close to the bottom when I notice a shiny gold box and a card that reads:
'Maybe we will get a chance in the next life.'
I frantically begin digging through the box for another note but it turns up empty.
After I've had time to calm down, I reach to unlatch the gold box and turn the dial. A guitar starts playing and I immediately recognize the song to be 'Sleepwalk' by Santo & Johnny.
It's not until hours of listening do I finally drift to sleep.
February 17, 1986:
She killed herself…
AN: So this is a very personal story to me that I've been working on for several years. It was originally meant for original characters, but I thought Emma and Regina would fit in nice as the characters. It's more suspenseful than anything, but there of course will be romance. And of course it is completely AU.
Side note: It is not set in first person, or written as diary entries for the rest of the chapters - this is just how the first chapter begins begins.
Please prepare for confusion because that's my game until it wraps up nicely in the end. Thank you for reading! R&R