The noise the lock made signifying I could now open my dead best friend's diary broke my heart and I was flustered with memories I never want to forget.
It was the middle of April and rain was pounding on the roof furiously. "You're my best friend. You know that, right ?" I say, trembling. "Of course, and I would be nothing without you." She replies. "You know thats a lie." I counter. "I don't lie...." And I knew she didn't, but I still couldn't believe her. We were lying under her covers, facing each other, looking into each other's eyes. Her's were a beautiful blue. She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer, and laying her head on my chest. "I love you." She whispered. I pulled her hair out her face, "I love you, too. More than you could ever know...." And we lay there that night, terrified of the storm like we were five again. Her soft hair smelled of vanilla and I held her tighter than ever.
-I opened her diary, flipped quickly through the pages, every page was filled with her neat hand-writing. I read from the beginning: I felt sick and scared and an unusual sense of disgust. I wanted nothing more than to really feel pain. I slammed the diary shut and threw it back in the box labeled Trash. I grabbed my jacket and left.