YES, A LONG ASS EPILOGUE. I made sure it was long as fuu because the finale was like 700 words -_-


February 12th

I've probably used twelve pages of this journal—excuse me, I mean Evelyn—trying to thinking of how to explain the last year or so of my life. When was my last entry? April. So almost a year . . . I feel like it has been a century, maybe two that I have seen you, Evelyn. A century that I have looked at these pages and completely poured my heart out. Well, ah, where should I start? I guess I should start with first being admitted. A few days after being in the mental hospital or whatever they called it, I met some really nice kids. Joshua, who was like 6'3 with serious depression issues and then Opal who was addicted to meth.

It was kind of scary being with Opal. Most of the time she was normal and we would hang out and play cards or whatever but other times . . . she screamed about big, fat, slimy worms crawling around her body and eating her away. I asked what was wrong with her, and a nurse told me that it was the side effects of the meth.

She only got worse.

Slowly, I watched Opal as she went from being a tan, blonde beauty to something similar to Freddy Cougar. Deep gashes lined on her cheeks and forehead, her hands and arms almost completely covered in scabs from where she has tried to 'take the worms out of her skin'. She left sometime in December to a place that could treat her wounds. Seeing her like that, the way she suffered made me cry myself to sleep for the majority of my stay.

I can't help nut shake the feeling that I could have been Opal. I used drugs like her; I did the same stupid shit she did.

Why was I not sitting here, ripping my skin off of my body and screaming about worms?

As for Josh, he stayed with me almost the whole ten months. We had almost the same schedule, eating breakfast and lunch together before chilling in the teen room. It was less frightening than the actual mental ward, because the teens seemed almost normal. Not counting the other three teens like Opal who screamed and shook and has big, frightened eyes as they continuously scratched at the invisible bugs.

Josh told me about the reason why he had tried to commit suicide: he found his long-term girlfriend, Victoria, in bed with his best friend Dante. This completely devastated Josh because Victoria and he had been dating for almost three years; he actually planned on marrying her and spending the rest of his days with her. She, however, had other plans. So they broke it off and Victoria was quick to get over it, nut Josh was crushed. He started smoking weed and doing cocaine to try and stop the ever growing pain in his heart, but it never went away. So then at some point he realized he just didn't want to feel this way anymore. He wanted to die. So he got a rope and a chair and tied it around his neck and tree limb, then kicked the chair from under him. He told me . . . the pain wad indescribable. His neck stung and he struggled to breathe but the rope constricted him. He really thought he was going to die, meet God and be on his way. And as Josh would put it, the Lord had other plans for him. Just before he was starting to see black, the rope just snapped. He fell to the ground, sputtering and gasping for air as his throat burned. He thought no one had seen him attempt suicide, but his neighbor did. She called his parents and told them what she had just witnessed from her living room window, and that was that. He was sent away to the place by his confused father and hysterical mother.

His Mom was pregnant, he told me. During the months of his stay she birthed a beautiful healthy girl, and gave Josh the opportunity to name her. I remember Josh coming to me in tears, telling me how nervous he was about naming his sister. So we sat down, and we thought up names for an hour, maybe more. By that time I was sleepy and bored, just throwing out random names. I was saying seasons, and then Josh gasped.

"Autumn!" He had said, almost squeaking. "I will name her Autumn!"

Then we hugged tightly and . . .hell, I don't even know. Maybe it was because we could relate so well, or the fact that his eyes were so blue I couldn't help but stare but . . . I decided I liked him.

And since that day and every day after that, I just giggled at his every word and made sure I looked presentable. Then Opal left, and I felt like it was my opportunity. Yeah, I kissed him. It was during free time and we were playing a game of war. It's weird how I can remember so well. The cards were yellow with age, and I was doing a lot better than him. He groaned in defeat, and I just leaned over and bam! Pushed my lips up against his. Oh man, I wanted to keep kissing him and never stop. But we had too. When I pulled away, he had this goofy grin on his face that made my cheeks warm and rosy. I honestly can't remember the last time I liked a guy this much, Evelyn.

When I look back on Alejandro, I have realized that I was never in love with him. I was alone and sad, and I needed someone to cry too and make me feel good. And for a little bit, I did feel good. I felt great, actually. But what comes up must come down right? Then Alejandro broke up with me because of his own problems, and I didn't know how to react. I was blinded by the sudden loss and reacted like any stupid seventeen year old would. It was so dumb that my stomach is in knots just thinking about it.

Just recalling those memories of doing drugs with Geoff and the others makes me want to gag and throw up.

I've changed now; my, have I changed. Even though I may only be a year older now—yeah that's right, I'm a legal adult bi-otch!—I have matured so much that Jett didn't even recognize me. I didn't recognize him much, either. Oh Eve, I wish you could have seen the look of Jett's face when he opened the door for me. He had gained weight, but he looked healthy instead of his usual stick-skinny figure. He had dyed his hair really light blonde with pink, and it looks just darling. His skin is tan and beautiful. I am so glad to have him as my brother; I don't think I mentioned how he wrote me every week, telling me how wonderful Garrett was to him and how Mom was changing, finally for the better. But before I go on the subject of my Mother, I would just like to make a note that Jett and Garrett celebrated their one year anniversary on the tenth! And next month, also on the tenth, I will celebrate my first meeting Garrett exactly a year ago.

Damn, time sure flies huh?

Right, back to my Mom.

Only a few days after my absence, she went completely mad. Crying and drinking, both which ended up Jett picking up her broken pieces. Then one day he sat down with her and told her everything. How much he loved her, but she needed to change. He could only take so much from her before he did or said something he would regret. Then the day after the pow-wow, Mom threw out her booze and cigarettes and went all tai chi on the house.

It only gets weirder.

She started studying Chinese, making Chinese food and meditating on the dining room table. Jett and Garrett loved the food and the hilarious entertainment Mom provided with her weird meditating methods. She became a lot more understanding of Jett's sexual preference; she even started hugging Garrett and invited him to Christmas dinner. Maybe because she didn't want to think about eating dinner alone, because Jett was sure to disappear, but it was still a beautiful gesture that makes my heart soar. When I first got back, we held each other cried until our bodies were drained of all water and no more tears came out. Jett cried along with us, and when Garrett came over for dinner that evening we all had another good cry.

Again, I can't believe I wrote about feeling so alone when I have such an amazing family. How could I have been so blind to not notice it before?

I don't want to think back on the past though. It makes me nauseous and dizzy. Ugh, I'm even getting the feeling at this very moment. So Jett is happily in love with Garrett and Mom is happily in love with her new lifestyle.

Actually, just yesterday I heard her whispering cutesy things to someone on the phone. Who knows, maybe I could have a step dad in the works? Speaking of Dad's, did Fredrick (1) tell you about mine? Of course not, he isn't anything but a binding of paper and so are you. Anyhow, Dad and that one co-worker turned lover got a divorce once he caught wind of what had happened to me. He is planning on moving back down here in the summer, and he is going to try and help out with Jett and I. I would love that a lot, actually. To have him around for the holidays? Yes, that would we nice. I haven't seen him in so long . . . I barely remember his looks now. I bet he's gained weight, probably waddling around like a young Saint Nicholas. In rehab—if I could call it that—we had these teen sessions once a week where we would meet and get to know the others. Learn why they were here, and how they planned on changing.

The nurse/counselor told us that eighty percent of kids that go to places like this to become clean off drugs or heal from depression go back into their old habits, also known as relapse for the drugs users. "Now, tell me which one of you boys and girls want to go back to your old ways?" She had said with her large Ginger colored hair bouncing as she spoke. No one raised their hands, everyone in the little group looking around to see if anyone else had done it.

"Good. Now if you are ready to change, to become a better version of yourself, raise your hand."

That time, everyone lifted their arms into the air and the nurse smirked happily. I can only wonder about the drug users like Opal, and what an awful time they must be having. One of the nurses told me that once the drugs fully leave the user's system, the creatures they imagine inside of them fade away. The only problem is that by that time they could have ripped off all of their fingernails and gouged their own eyes out, trying to get at the damned bugs.

Worst part? Opal told me she knew they weren't real. That she was just crazy. And yet she couldn't stop herself from screaming and scratching. Just imagining the worms, juicy and slimy as the rolled their bodies around on and inside her body . . . it was too much to her.

She also told me that because of the imaginary worms she felt, when she did scratch and bleed she felt no pain. If anything, she felt relief because for once the worms went away. They left her alone. She had inner peace, if only for that moment.

I am sure you am wondering how I look. I have talked about Jett and Garrett and Mom, Josh and Opal but I really haven't said anything about myself. Well, for one, my hair is much longer. The teal I had in it has faded for the most part, and the black I dyed it is a dark brown. My bangs have grown out so I have begun to just clip them back and not really care. Josh said he thought I was beautiful, so I don't have much to worry about. As for my wardrobe? I traded in my boots for a comfy pair of green and black vans. I still wear my usual 'Goth' attire, but I find myself drawn more to the pastel colored shirts and dark wash jeans. In the Ward, we wore the same kind of shirt just in different colors. Green, blue, purple, black, red. The most popular colors I'm guessing. They weren't too bad. It was the baggy sweatpants that really irked me. They were loose in all the worst, most unflattering places. I don't really have a butt so it didn't help me much that it just enhanced the smallness of it.

The first couple of months were really hard. I basically hated everyone and everything. I tried to stop eating in hopes they would tell my mom and she would come get me, but that didn't happen. After about four days of not eating I couldn't go any longer and I cracked. I just started eating. It really wasn't bad at all; I was expecting some lumpy, moldy piece of toast given to me by a fat lunch lady with a hairy mole on her upper lip and gray whiskers. Instead I got a very nice, proportionate meal served to me by a slim pale red head that looked like she should be on a makeup ad like Maybelline or L'Oreal rather in a mental Ward serving lunch.

There were many nurses that took care of the teens, but the only one that I really got to know was a chunky, mocha colored girl named Lillian. She reminded me of Bridgette, besides the face that Lillian was multiple years older and black. She listened to me whenever I needed to say something or vent, especially when it came to talking about how cute Josh was. I'm pretty sure she was a lesbian, because she and the lunch lady red head were always flirting with each other; trust me, I am an expert on flirting. I never asked her about it though, because it wasn't my place to ask about her orientation. Hey, she could be bi, who knows?

Back onto the topic of the Ward—still not sure if that is the correct term but who cares—my room was small and freezing. Not cold, not chilly, but actually shivering and teeth-chattering cold. A person was only admitted two blankets, so I was wearing two pairs of sweatpants and three shirts along with the two blankets. It wasn't the best nights of my life, but it was bearable. In the beginning I was grouped with Opal, and that's how we got to know each other and I witnessed the screaming. Then she left, and I felt kind of alone. I was roommate-less for a good month before being grouped with some anorexic slut who was admitted on her own whim. I instantly didn't like her, and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Her hair was the color and texture of straw and her eyes were droopy with bags as big as my head. Yeah, she wasn't the prettiest but all the boys seemed to think she was. I guess it was because she had big tits and a non-existent stomach, but when I asked Josh if he liked the new girl he just made an 'ew that's disgusting I want to throw up now thanks' face.

I was instantly in love with him.

Humph. I feel like the rest of this entry is going to be all girlish and lovey-dovey as I talk about how wonderful Josh is. I can't help it . . . he makes me feel all funny, like my bones are Jell-O. Like the outside world doesn't matter; it's just me and him. We officially started dating a few months ago, and it was really hard when Josh was pulled out of the Ward. He gave me his house number and I used my one phone call a day on him, talking as long as we could. I just ended a very long, nice conversation with him before coming and writing this. He told me about Autumn and how much he loves her. He got really emotional and started telling me how lucky he was that God saved him from killing himself. He would never have gotten to meet his precious sister; he told me it was pure fate that he beat depression.

His mom, knowing how serious we were—as serious as you can get without having sex and only kissing in secrecy anyway—and invited me for dinner this Saturday. I said yes of course, because I will get my two favorite things: food and Josh. I wonder if news will go around about me being back. Garrett and Jetta have pretty much filled me in with the news of what happened to my 'friends' during the time I was gone.

Geoff was still a major loser who hasn't and will never mount to anything. His only priority is doing and selling drugs. All his friends have grown up though, leaving him to drown in his demons. I hope that he will admit himself into a rehab and get help like I did. He isn't a bad kid, he has a nice heart. It's just worn and damaged from those stupid drugs.

As for Bridgette . . . Gah, where do I start? Her boyfriend moved down here so they got together and, well, she was dumb and careless and it ended up as her becoming pregnant. It was a really hard time for her, because she was so young and the wonderful guy she fell in love with turned out to not be the prince charming she thought. They broke up, and once she told her mom and dad of her 'condition', they moved out to God knows where.

That kind of upsets me, knowing the closest thing I had to a best friend was somewhere, young and pregnant.

She must feel so alone.

Alejandro moved away, too, back to Spain with his parents. I guess he was starting to be so depressed that it started scaring his aunt and uncle. They called him parents and had them fly him out there. Huh. . . I guess that's the only real friends I had, or the ones that didn't judge me. . . That I knew of anyways. It kind of frightens me how much has changed in such little time.

I'm scares of the rest of my life, I'll be honest. The thought of the future makes me shake and cry but I know if I keep my head held high, I can make it. I will be okay as long as I have my sanity and my family. That's all I ever needed; I just wish I had known that sooner.

Well, Mom is calling for me so I better go see what she needs.

Until next time, my sweet Evelyn.

-The new and improved Gwendolyn.


(1) Fredrick is Jett's diary/journal.