LOST DIARY [J.JK]

Chapter 1

Family, a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household, but not just any house hold, your household. With you being 17, it was safe to say you've lived some of the most scariest moments, mentally and physically. Your parents would work early in the morning then your father would go clubbing late at night, leaving your mother with all the house duties.

From the age of 8, your father would have a routine of getting drunk and bringing a new girl home everyday.

Countless times have you tried convincing your mother to divorce but she was too scared "Scared of what?" You'd ask her, but she never gave an answer.

Not that she didn't want to give you an answer but didn't have one. She stayed oblivious to the situation, pretending it was invisible.

Each day she'd come home, get herself drunk enough until the numbness took over her body, just in time for your dad to arrive home with another girl.

For many years your brother has been the one to protect you, taking to places to free you from the horrific sight of your parents fighting, protecting you from getting hit and always defunding you. Words could not express how grateful you were to have him by your side — until he had to leave you for college.

Going out of state wasn't easy for him especially knowing your parents fights were reflecting upon your depression and anxiety. Thinking back to the day he left your side with only a gift on your nightstand and a sweet letter.

'Dear my y/n,
I have to go today, but know I'll be back some other day to find you. I want to give these 3 gifts
to you as a way for you to write about your day.
Each one represents a year that I am gone. Once
all the pages are filled, I'd like you to mail it to me and I will do the same as I have a set of my own.

I love you so much my Princess. Please be safe
and I'll miss you loads
-y/b/n

Unraveling the wrapping paper, you admired the gold binding with a beautiful silk design plastered around the diary.

Opening it up to see each paper numbered with a cute quote at the top. A smile was brought to your face as you held it close to your heart.

Ever since then, your years of secondary school have been more and more difficult. Your mother started getting sick and tired while your father still picked up girls from anywhere.

The sickening look on your moms face each time she would walk into her bedroom knowing a many women laid there.

Your mom was too weak to respond to your the situation as she soon started to get along with other guys at the club.

You were practically living independently as they both cared too much about getting wasted that you had nothing to do with them, unless they wanted something to get mad at.

The scars all over your body each told a story of pain and discomfort from when your parents would throw things at you, slap you and pin you against walls.

The sounds of their growling voices telling you how useless and unworthy you were constantly replayed in your head. You knew you meant nothing to them and you tried to avoid them as much as possible, which was why you "enjoyed" school.

Not so much the people but the thought of getting away made you feel more at ease. Although people weren't to friendly, the teachers always knew you never had the best home life.

They tried their best to make you feel the most comfortable by letting you sit alone, work alone and sometimes work outside of the class.

They helped you keep up with work that you missed on days you were too weak to show up to class. Your straight A's allowed you to be one of the very few students on your schools honor roll causing continuous signs of jealously to float in mid air amongst the other classmates.

Each day was spent walking through the halls with your head hung low, brothers hoodie on and your school books at hand.

The so called popular girls liked to use you as a punching bag or a toy, but you didn't mind as you were already use to it. Derogatory terms being thrown at you left and right as the hallway filled with whispered upon your entrance to any room.

Lunch time was when you spent time to yourself, picking up the same diary everyday and you invisible ink marker to write your thoughts down. Leaving a small smile through the same mask you'd wear, knowing your brother was probably writing as well.

The sound of the ink hitting the paper allowed you to focus more and be in-depth with your own thoughts as you tried to be as detailed as possible.

Each day the same routine of running up to the rooftop, sitting on the bench to write made you somewhat happy.

Everyday until today. Running up to the rooftop once's again, digging through your bag only to find the pen but no diary. Frantically taking everything out of your bag to make sure as tears filled your eyes. You lost it.

The diary that held all your sorrow yet happiness has been lost. Attempting to relive the moment from when you lost it, you close your eyes and think.....