Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
I purchased rope this morning. The woman behind the counter asked me for my number. Is that how shallow people have become? I’d like to think I’d notice a man or woman, their face set, their determination set, whilst buying a length of rope. It’s obvious isn’t it?
Tomorrow this will all be over.
Tomorrow there will be no more nightmares, no more dreams, no more pain. No more writing in this ridiculous journal that does nothing but help me remember why I hate waking up in the morning.
It’ll be all over.
I gasp, my fingers trembling as I turn the page again. I know he doesn’t kill himself, I know, but reading about it… it’s unnerving. It’s scary.
I was going to do it. I stood on the balcony overlooking the beach, trying out the knot of the rope after tying it around the railing. The noose was already tied. That was the first thing I did.
But I paused, I wish I hadn’t.
No I don’t.
I’m not sure what happened. There was this girl on the beach. She had her arms spread wide and was walking backwards. I couldn’t see her face because the wind carried her hair over it. I wanted to, badly.
I couldn’t look away.
I grabbed the pair of binoculars from the next room, the ones my mum uses to look at the boats on the horizon.
She was still on the beach when I returned but this time she was walking normally, her face uncovered. Her smile in place. She’s beautiful.
I’m not sure what this feeling is. I feel it now.
She looked so innocent, so carefree, so happy. It made me want to feel that way.
He’s talking about me. My heart slams against my ribs, almost as if waking itself up after a long sleep. I rub my chest, my breath shallow and my eyes wide as I read on.
She was on the beach again today. I watched her for a really long time. Then I watched her walk back. I wonder what her name is. I wonder why she’s so happy.
The next few days are written with similar things, all about me. All of them. Nothing else.
I have to meet her. I went down there today but the sand… I couldn’t do it. I hate it.
I waited like a stalker at the pavement near the kids play area. It’s as close to the beach as I’d allow myself to be.
She doesn’t leave the beach, I watched her stop about forty yards from the pavement where I stood, turn and walk back. I tried to follow her path but the route she goes takes her behind a row of houses and no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find the place where she exited and went home.
I felt disappointment.
I felt determination.
Oh my god. He wasn’t lying… about any of it.
I saw them kiss. I saw them as I waited. I trusted him.
I never trust anybody but I trusted him.
He led her right by me yesterday, yet I still trusted him.
I confronted him about it, asked him why. He just shrugged… SHRUGGED!
You snooze you lose. You snooze you lose. You snooze you lose. You snooze you lose.
Caleb… how could you?
He’s moving here. It should be me.
The next twenty or so pages are all about us. I daren’t read on. It’s painful to see this side of Caleb and to see Nathan’s hurt.
I pick up the next book, once I make it through the first, and the first page grips my heart in a steel hand of hurt and squeezes.
She’s pregnant. He did what he promised he wouldn’t do. He didn’t get bored.
I hit him.
I saw the way she looked at me. I thought she’d be horrified that I hit Caleb. She only seemed shocked and curious.
I know I shouldn’t think this, but she’s still beautiful. Even more so than she was two years ago. I should be disgusted that she’s been with Caleb. I should be revolted.
Yet I only want to take her away.
I felt lost.
I felt alone.
I felt defeated.
Pages turn and my eyes blur. There’s a picture of me taken with a Polaroid. I’m curled up into a ball on the couch, my eyes closed and my hair fanning out above my head.
I came home and she was asleep on the couch. I should have woken her.
I couldn’t. She looked too peaceful. It’s the first time since his death that she’s looked peaceful.
I carried her to bed, she smelled divine. Like honey and almonds. The way she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her forehead to my neck.
It’s wrong, but I’ve never walked so slow in my life. I didn’t want it to end.
Why does she make me feel like this?
I felt confused.
I felt happy.
I felt protective.
I felt aroused?!?!
Day after day, after day, after day… I read and read and read. My eyes burn, my nose tingles, my chest aches…there’s just so much. Too much. I don’t know how much more I can take.