Dear Luke, March 3, 2014
How would you feel if I went a little less formal than dear? Maybe a wassup? A possible how are ya? I think I'll just stick to dear.
I want to stop writing in this journal. I want to stop documenting my feelings to a goddamn book like it will help me.
But, I have a feeling this will help you. What if you want to know what happened while you were on vacation? This would help. I think.
Sorry for the sad notes. Today isn't a great day. Michael and Calum left (maybe to get food. not that I care. I haven't eaten in two days. "I'm sick.") and I'm alone. I wish you were here. To hold me and cuddle me and tell me it's okay. That it's okay to want to rid myself of this awful existence.
I am such a sorry Sally today.
I found a new place for my blades. I taped them under the bathroom counter, because who looks there? It's like putting your hand under a school desk. You could find gum or something. No one wants to find something like that.
My promise isn't even a promise anymore... more like a forgotten goal. A long forgotten goal.
Michael found me the other day. Blood dripping from my wrists, a sick smile planted on my face, but tears streaming down my face in rivers. He started crying (not that I know why), and then Calum heard. He started yelling at me and telling me that this was the reason you're dead. But you're not dead. You're on a vacation to a far away place - away from me, away from us.
But you're not dead Luke. Right? You'll come back. For me, right?
I love you heaps.
-Ashton
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If any of you ever need anything, DM me or something. I'm always here to talk(:
Hope you enjoy.
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-Katie♡