the last page

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Luz stressed the whole day at school. She hardly could sleep last night, so she slept through her first two periods in the library. Once she got up, she was constantly biting her lip or bouncing her leg.

She couldn't stop thinking about the last page.

When lunch came, the four friends got their trays and sat at their usual spot in the lunchroom. Willow and Gus buzzed on about some new kid in their classes, but Luz just kept her eyes down at her tray, picking at a piece of broccoli with her fork.

"Luz?"

She looked up at the sound of her name, and saw that the whole table was looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Just tired," She replied.

"Me too, back to school sleep schedule is fucked," Gus laughed, pointing at her with his fork.

She smiled, looking back down at her tray, praying that the bell would ring any second.

In her last class of the day, she just scrolled through her phone that was hidden in her lap. She'd glance up to make sure the teacher was still at her desk every once in a while, but she never moved.

The last 15 minutes of class struck, and Luz felt like she was going to explode with impatience. She wanted to go home, not even to read the letter, she just couldn't stand school.

She laid her head on her desk and closed her eyes, waiting for the dismissal bell.

Luz walked home as fast as she could. She felt so aware of her surroundings. It felt like everyone's eyes were on her, like her clothes were too tight, or maybe her skin was. She slowed her pace as she got close to the house, not wanting to startle Hooty.

She walked up to the door, pet him, and walked in. Eda and King still weren't home, so she headed to her room, dropped her bag, and picked up the diary.

She wasn't ready to read it, but she knew that she would never be ready to read it, so she might as well just rip off this huge band-aid now.

She flipped open the pages to the last one, and sat on her bed.

September 10th

So, we've come to the end of our journey. Thank you, Luz, for delivering all of those letters for me. I know it must have been hard, and for that I'm really sorry, but I couldn't have thought of a better person to do it.

I just have one more letter. You may already know who it's for, because I'm not good at surprises, but I hope it's still special.

I wish I could keep writing, but the more I write, the more completed I feel. Like, maybe I've said all I needed to.

I don't think I'm physically ready to die, but maybe spiritually I am. Or maybe it's the other way around. I don't know.

I don't know a lot, but maybe that's not too bad.

But like I said earlier, thank you, Luz. I can't believe this is how it's ending. I don't know what else to say.

I guess you can choose what you want to do with this diary. Keep it, burn it, bury it. Whatever you want to do, it doesn't matter to me. Maybe you and the group could pass it around.

Did you ever go and get the other diaries? Are you gonna read them? You don't have to, nothing special in them. I'm just curious. Come talk to me sometime, okay? I'm gonna miss you.

I wonder what my grave will look like. I think I should have got to pick it out, I mean, I'm the one dying.

Kidding. Slightly.

I hate that this is how I say goodbye. I mean, I'll tell you goodbye in person, but you know. I can't believe I've come to the end.

Anyway. I think I've said all that I need to. So, goodbye diary.

This next letter is for you, Luz.

Sincerely, Amity

Luz slowly removed the letter from the back of the book. It was held with a piece of tape. She closed the diary, sitting it on her nightstand, kind of in a "not sure what to do now" mood.

She'd spent the last two months reading about her dead girlfriend's thoughts, and now it was over, and she was about to read exactly what Amity wanted to say to her. She was gonna read the things Amity never got to tell Luz.

She was scared. She felt a turning in her stomach, and it fluttered all the way up to her chest. She set the letter on top of the diary, and pushed herself out of bed.

She'd go take a shower, be refreshed and ready, and she'd read the letter.

A part of her felt like maybe she was too late to read the letter. Maybe Amity had expected her to read the diary quicker. Maybe she was too early. Maybe Amity had expected Luz to wait longer before she read.

Luz didn't read the letter that night. She did not read it the next day. Or the next.

Luz passed it every day, when she woke up, when she got ready, when she got home, et cetera. But she never touched it.

She continued life as if nothing had happened. Amity was dead, she'd delivered the letters, she'd finished the diary. But her heart still felt a missing piece. Her heart longed to read that note.

So one night, she sat on her bed, took a deep breath, and unfolded it.

Dear Luz,

sincerely, amityWhere stories live. Discover now