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May 5, 12:12 a.m.

Justin: You didn't call me today and I didn't call you.

Ariana: I'm aware of that.

Justin: Did you have a good day?

Ariana: I guess so. I'm sort of half-asleep and not all that interested in thinking too hard.

Justin: But I want to talk. I've been reading Jason's letters and there's things in there I want to tell you about.

Ariana: Really?

Justin: Yeah. It's good that I'm reading them.

Ariana: What kind of stuff do you want to tell me about?

Justin: I thought you wanted to go to bed.

Ariana: I'm starting to feel more awake.

Justin: I think he's really sorry.

Ariana: For being an alcoholic?

Justin: No. For what he did.

Ariana: I still don't know what he did.

Justin: Do you want to know?

Ariana: Only if you want to tell me.

Justin: I don't like talking about it.

Ariana: Then you don't have to.

Justin: When you don't push me, and you act like how you are now, it makes me want to tell you.

Ariana: I never meant to push. I'm just curious.

Justin: What Jason did is really bad.

Ariana: I know. You've already said that.

Justin: Like, television bad.

Ariana: You don't have to tell me.

Justin: But now I want to.

Ariana: Okay. I'm listening.

Justin: Jason got back from the party and he snapped. He'd been dating this girl, Cecil, and they'd broken up, and he saw her at the party. He got home and reached a breaking point and just snapped.

Ariana: So you were there.

Justin: Yeah. It was me and my mom and my dad. I've never told anybody about this.

Ariana: Do you want me to ask questions or just be quiet?

Justin: Just listen.

Ariana: Okay.

Justin: He was angry again. He always got angry when he drank. He got home and was yelling about Cecil and her friend, who wouldn't even talk to him at the party. I was in my room. My parents were downstairs watching television. And I heard my mom screaming. It wasn't even a specific word or anything. But the sound she made cut into me. Then I heard my dad yell, "Put down the gun." It was so surreal. It felt like I was listening to a movie, except the voices were all familiar. I mean, my god, it was my dad yelling that. I ran downstairs. I remember turning the corner and seeing my mother's face. I can't even describe it. It was an expression of total suffering. Like something sharp was piercing her heart. My dad had his hand out. And he said it again, "Put down the gun." I kept moving. Around the corner. That's when I saw Jason. He was crying. His face was wet from tears and snot and sweat. He had my dad's handgun. It was in his mouth. Out of instinct, I jumped toward him. I don't know what I thought I was doing. Jason stepped back and I saw his finger move. He pulled the trigger. Click. Click. Click. Three times. I thought his head was going to explode. I thought I was going to see his skull burst. But nothing happened. He pulled the gun out of his mouth and threw it on the floor.

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