Confessions of a dead girl 1

1. The Note.

To my best friend,
I think death is a big thing. Maybe it's crossing over. Maybe it's the end of everything. It's such an enigma, is it not? But beyond everything, it's the best escape. All things that held you, pulled you down become powerless. I do not know if I'll cross over, or where I'll be. But in the absence of that knowledge, it'll suffice to know that for me, it'll be the end of everything.
Tomorrow will be another day for everyone else. For your existence too, but who'll talk to you now?
They'll probably take you away to find out why it all happened. That's what they do, don't they? And soon after, they will know everything I ever told you. God knows what they'll make of it. It would be interesting to know.
It's going to be over. This makes me a little scared. Though it's not fright, I believe. Trepidation maybe.
It's a little strange to share your last thoughts with a best friend who's a diary. Is that funny? Sad? But at least I have this. And like mum says, I should be grateful.
I should probably write a note for the others, something along the lines of 'by the time you read this, I'll be gone'. But then that's what's going to happen. What's the use of stating the obvious? I should leave a goodbye note. But somehow it feels so wrong. 'Good' is not a word that can be used here.
I'm not going to end this like, it was all fine or anything. It wasn't. Not at all. Far from it. Everything that could go wrong, did. Every single thing. I'm not going to tell people why I'm doing this either. The above line should suffice as a reason. And if it doesn't well, whatever. Does it even matter?
Goodbye, anyway. For all of you.

- C


to be continued...