. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
CONFUSION WAS probably the best way to describe how I felt as I opened the box and discovered journals and a letter in there.
Somewhat tentatively, I picked up the letter, which said 'read this first' on it. Prying it open, I stared down at what was Zora's distinctly neat handwriting.
Small doodles and different colors for the heading made it so obviously Zora. She could never leave any notes, letters, or anything plain. All that she touched, she made into art. It was in her nature.
♥ 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓝𝓪𝔂𝓪 ♥
𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓈, 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒, 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉.
𝒮𝑜, 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝟣𝟪 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓌𝑒'𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈. 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜, 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓇𝒶𝓂𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔.
𝒪𝓀𝒶𝓎, 𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃. 𝐼𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓍 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓈. 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓉. 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝟣𝟦 𝓉𝑜 𝟣𝟧. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝟣𝟧 𝓉𝑜 𝟣𝟨. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝒷𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃. 𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝓁.
𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝒶𝓈𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒶𝒸𝓎. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓉-𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒, 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒. 𝑀𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒶𝓎.
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒, 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒾 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝓊𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒜𝓁𝓈𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔.
𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔,
𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒵𝑜𝓇𝒶
(𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒'𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑜𝓍 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉.)
They were hers. She was giving me a glimpse into her mind. It felt too private, which is exactly what she'd anticipated I'd think. But really, who wouldn't? It was too intrusive and I knew she'd given me permission, but it didn't change that.
As if my touch would break it, I grabbed one of them gently and unsurely, then traced my fingers along its edges, faltering halfway through opening it. Putting it down, I looked for the little box she'd mentioned instead and found it promptly.
Inside it laid a necklace, a resin daisy one. A little note fell out as I opened the box.
𝐼 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝒾𝓈𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒, 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒?
My eyes fixated on the daisy, I stared at it for so long my vision went blurry. It wasn't heavy, its weight barely noticeable in my hand, but it felt like I was carrying the most significant thing in the universe. Like the sun was centered in this daisy, its light spreading out of the petals and leaking into the vastness surrounding me.
She'd kept it. This daisy I'd walked past one day, collected, and given to her, thinking she'd keep it for maybe a day and then toss it. Rather, she'd gone out of her way to make sure she could keep it for as long as she wanted.
A teardrop splashed on the necklace. I wiped my eyes and moved my hair out of the way so I could put it on. The clasp clicked into place. I looked down at it around my neck, a smile slipping through the tears. I never wanted to take it off.
The journals lay in front of me, I found it in me to open the one I nearly did before. The first entry was two or so months before she started at our school. It was mostly about how she hated her old school, how rude everyone was, and that she felt lonely there. A couple of names that I didn't know popped up. The entries were inconsistent, sometimes she'd write multiple ones in a week, and sometimes not a single one for two or so weeks.
I mainly skimmed through the first ones, until I got to the first page Zora had tabbed. Seeing as she said she tabbed and annotated entries I was mentioned in, I was surprised this one was so early on. It was the first day she started at the school. We hadn't even talked that day. In fact, we didn't really start talking for quite a while.
When I saw my name in an annotation, I backtracked, reading the sentence again.
ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɴɪᴄᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʟᴜɴᴄʜ! ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ɢɪʀʟ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ. ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʜᴀɪʀ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴇɴ. ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ.
Zora annotated:
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇
I had always been under the impression that Zora hadn't noticed me until the day she approached me, that it was an impulsive decision taken with no previous thought to it. Or at most, she'd thought about it for a couple of days or weeks, not months. But no, she'd noticed me. She'd thought I was pretty.
An entry later, I was mentioned again.
ɪ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ'ꜱ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴀʏᴀ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ. ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.
-𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉
They'd never said it to my face, but I had my suspicions people were talking behind my back. Having it confirmed made my stomach churn, but it was years ago, so I tried to not be too affected by it.
A few entries later, there was my name again.
ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ɴᴀʏᴀ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴏ ʙᴀᴅ. ꜱʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏᴏʟ. ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ? ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ. ɪ'ᴍ ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ.
Then another time. And again, until finally, we talked for the first time.
ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ! ɪ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴀʏᴀ! ɪ ꜱᴀᴡ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ ʜɪ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ. ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ'ᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʀᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ.
I closed the journal for a moment, having a hard time processing all of this. She'd never seemed nervous or anything. Zora always carried herself with ease. I thought she'd been scarily confident when she came up to me and said that, that there wasn't a drop of hesitation there. In reality, she'd been meaning to talk to me for months but had been too scared to.
She didn't approach with pity in mind, but rather with admiration and a fear of me not liking her. I'd watched her like she was an out-of-reach, too cool of a person for me to talk to, and she'd viewed me the same way. It was hard to believe, a rewiring in my brain of our first encounter.
For the rest of the journal, I was brought up here and there. Quite a lot, actually. She'd write a lot of things like;
ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɴᴀʏᴀ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴏʟᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ
Or she'd just go on about things we did together.
When I got to the end of it, I closed the journal with a sense of disbelief. Reading these moments from her point of view, as well as seeing how she'd thought about me before we even met, was disorientating, especially for my heart. It was in a state of tug-of-war, pulling me in the direction of reconciling our temporarily paused relationship, or keeping my distance for a while longer.
On one hand, the reason I needed a break from our friendship was to avoid these emotions. On the other hand, it didn't seem to be helping and I was having trouble thinking it ever would. Although, it had broadened my horizons, making me less dependent on just Zora all the time, rather than putting my energy into building proper friendships with the others.
Unsurely so, I fished out the next journal and started reading about Zora's thoughts spanning from the ages of 14 to 15. Immediately I noticed that her handwriting had turned into the more recognizable neat way it was now. Zora's tabs started showing up almost at once this time. We'd known each other for a few years by then.
𝒮𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒩𝒶𝓎𝒶. 𝒮𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀. 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉 𝑒𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓌𝓃. 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝒹, 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜, 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉.
Zora annotated:
-𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈
The darker shift in tone made my heart ache. Her previous optimism in the former journal had turned into something more desolate. There were still lots of happy entries, but a wide range of them were filled with more gloomy snippets regarding my mental health. This journal was written during the darkest period of my life. I was burdened with feelings of despondency and inferiority.
More so every day I'd started to notice how my parents were treating me in juxtaposition to my brother. The depression and anxiety had started developing into something more apparent. It cast a heavy cloud over me, rain constantly threatening to pour down. I was stuck in my head, which had become a place of debilitating numbness and never-ending worries. My body couldn't keep up with it, so I had unexplained aches, fatigue, heart palpitations, and more. My support system was limited to Zora and I didn't want to push everything onto her, so I was all alone.
𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒹, 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎. 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜
A week later:
𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝒸𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈, 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓎𝓂𝓅𝓉𝑜𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹/𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂. 𝐼'𝓂 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓅𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈
Two weeks after that:
𝐼 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃. 𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓊𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒾𝓉
I wasn't sure if I could continue reading at that point. I felt sick to my stomach and weighed down by guilt. She'd made a little note on the side telling me she didn't want to make me feel like I was in any way a burden for this, that she let me read this because she wanted to know she saw me and she cared so much. Earlier she'd also warned me not to read on if the reminder of the events would be too triggering. I continued, because I was overcome with a need to see things from her perspective. When I saw a date I would never forget, I nearly stopped and put it down. But in the end, I didn't.
𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝑀𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝑔𝑔𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Zora.
𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒.
𝐻𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓂, 𝓈𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹. 𝐼 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓉
𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓊𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓎. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂. 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹'𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝒾𝓉
I feel the same.
𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹. 𝐼 𝑔𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝒾𝓈𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒. 𝒮𝑒𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹. 𝐼'𝒹 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒
The following entries heavily revolved around my recovery and how I entered therapy. They switched between being more joyful and rather dispirited. As it came to an end, I checked the time on my phone. It was late, but I couldn't stop myself from picking up the next one.
Again, I was brought up quite a lot. I could hardly cope with the tenderness she spoke of me in some of her paragraphs.
𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝓈𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈. 𝒩𝒶𝓎𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒲𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈. 𝒟𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈.
-𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈, present-day Zora had written.
𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝓎, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓊𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓌𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹. 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒩𝒶𝓎𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔
𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓊𝓅 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒. 𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓀𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒
Around a third of the way into the diary, she started writing more about boys. Up until that point, she'd mentioned a guy here or there, but hadn't talked much about them. I knew exactly why boys were being brought up more and I started feeling queasy.
𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑔𝓊𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈, 𝒥𝒶𝓎𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓉. 𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓈. 𝒜𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒶𝓎, 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝒶 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒-𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓉. 𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉
I remembered Jayden. I'd never forget that name. Pretty cute was an overstatement in my opinion. She talked more about him and the dates they went on. I knew where it was leading and skimmed through it. Until:
𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓎𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼𝓉 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉. 𝐼𝓈 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓌𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇? 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈, 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓈𝑜.
𝐻𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂. 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓌.
A couple days later:
𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒽𝒾𝓂. 𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒. 𝐼 𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻𝒻. 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓀. 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒾𝓂, 𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝒹 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈. 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃
Asshole. I hated him for making her cry and doubt herself. But as much as the experience had made her feel insecure, she'd recovered from it and came out more confident in herself. When she entered her first relationship, she went into it knowing she deserved more than that piece of shit. While her boyfriends had been questionable at best, they'd been better than Jayden. A low standard, however.
I skimmed a lot of the entries, knowing the story already. When I came to one that had a bunch of lines scribbled out. I stopped, puzzled. What the fuck? Zora hadn't annotated the page or provided any explanation for the stuff that was scribbled out, so my curiosity ate at me.
Part of me wondered if it was about Avi. He'd only been mentioned in context to me a couple of times, but none of her descriptions had sounded particularly like she had a crush on him or anything. It made me wonder, when did it develop then? It didn't seem like it was a crush years in the making.
I tried not to linger too much on it, but I couldn't help wondering what the sentences she crossed out consisted of. Avi? Me? Something completely different?
When I got to the last page, her final annotation was:
𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽. 𝒩𝑜𝓌, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈
Fuck, I needed to talk to her.
╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
A bit of a different chapter, but the first time we get into Zora's head, sort of at least. Whether your opinion of Zora has changed for the better, worse, or not at all is up to you
See you next chapter!
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨!
©𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚖. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍