Prolouge: Dear Diary,
August 24th 2009
Dear Diary,
Bristol has always been the small, peaceful town that I have known and loved. It's always been the same, never has it changed. It's twenty miles outside of Hartford, and it's easy to get too. It's not too big but not to small…it's perfect. Well, it's perfect for me. Everyone does their own thing and that's how it goes around here. But right now it feels so different. It's the way I never could imagine it being. When the plane landed at the airport just a week ago I knew it was Bristol. As Emma was driving home, the streets looked familiar but they didn't feel like the streets I have known all my life. I remember when Emma was driving home I was thinking how much mom would have missed me. She was probably at the door waiting for the car to pull into the driveway. When we pulled up into the driveway I hauled out my luggage and ran inside. But my heart was disappointed to walk into an empty house. It was a house, and it looked like mine, but I did not even recognizing it. This couldn't have been the house I have lived seventeen years in. But, this familiar house was mine; the feel of it wasn't mine. It was too different without both parents. I recall pulling my bags up the stairs and walking to my untouched room. It looked like one of those preserved rooms in a museum. The memory that stuck in my mind the most is seeing the innocent Ashton walk into his room dazed and confused. I secretly watched him look around his room and then walk to mom's room to find nothing, nothing but furniture and books. Then there was me. My room didn't feel the same. It was my room, the same room I have had since I was born. This was the same room that Jessica and I had a sleepover in and I broke my leg in the attempt to do a cartwheel. And this was the room that I had gotten my first kiss from some boy named Oliver back in seventh grade…but why did it feel so different? The old feeling in my heart had come back. The feeling of pain and suffering. Ever since I was little I've learned how painful life can be. It's never fair and it won't always be good. Most of the time life isn't going to be reasonable no matter how hard you try or want it to be. It's plain and simple, and that's how it goes. That's at least how it goes around here. I really don't know why I'm writing in this diary right now. I got it six years ago and this is the first time I have ever used it. For six years it has been placed on my shelves never being touched or used. It acted as a decoration for my shelves, and truthfully I never even noticed the diary. That was until today. My mom got this diary for me days after dad died back in '02. She said I should write how I used to feel in it. I hid my depression when I was younger very well, but my mom saw through my act. She knew me to well. That was when I was ten, I was in fourth grade but I remember it so vividly. Now seven years later I am a junior in high school. I'm only 17 years old and I can't even explain how life is so hard and cruel to me. Even after dad died I still thought I had hope with my mom. And I did for a while. But that while went so fast. I had that hope until she died in May. After that I felt like I had lost everything. Aunt Emma keeps saying that however good or bad a situation is, it will change. She quotes things she reads, but I don't blame her. She tries anything to get Ashton and me to be happy. I'm dealing with this better than Ashton though. Even I'm surprised about that. It's so hard to see him go through something like this. It's hard for him…and it's hard for me. But it's too painful to think about right now. I just have to keep my mind clear. Keeping my mind clear is pretty hard. Here I am at 4:15 in the morning to nervous and scared to sleep. It's rare for me to be scared now. I had never been one to afraid take risks, but it's like I'm terrified to even try anything new. But this, this wasn't even new! This was school for crying out loud, it's only school. It's the same school I have been going to since freshman year, all my friends go to it, and I know everyone, so why am I just so scared? This will be easy; this is going to be a great year. I have to make it the best. Even if it kills me…
I stopped writing. I looked at the neat black script on the page. It ended with a dot, dot, and dot and it was like my mind had stopped. I was either to nervous or too tired to write any more. I couldn't do anything else. I was done with worrying right now. I'm too weak to think about any more disasters that are awaited. I placed the mint colored diary along with my pen onto the night table next to my bed. I turned the switch on the lamp beside me off. I was blinded by darkness and silence. Everything was still. Tiredness came over me easily after and my eyes closed.
