Julie

Somewhere in 2020… I don’t care about dates anymore.

I don’t want to fall asleep, Julie. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go.

Not in this heat. Way too hot.

I wanted something cooler. Something around 98° Fahrenheit.

That’s the perfect temperature.

The temperature of blood.

I’ve been thinking of our future because I’ll never see those days. I don’t know why this happened… But I probably deserved it.

I tried to do my best after that, but you know I’m not perfect. I’ve been treating the nurses well. Well, trying to.

I don’t know if they like me, I have been getting weird stares, though.

It’s boring here. I don’t want to get to know anyone. More people that I just want to cling onto. Dad Father keeps popping back into my mind.

Lately, I’ve been praying for forgiveness.

I know you’ve been praying for my health. Julie… Just accept it.

When I leave this Earth, I hope you find someone else. And stop clinging. To me. To the case. Because there’s so much we haven’t done. So much you can still do.

Getting married, starting a family.

Watching your husband with his son.

I wish it could be me, but I won’t make it off this bed.You’ll be happy. You’ll live a long good life. You’ll live through this pandemic and find yourself decades later telling your grandchildren about it. You’ll tell them how hot it is… I swear I can’t bear it anymore.

I hope I go to heaven so I’ll see you once again, but that’s not a guarantee is it? Life was kind of short, but I got so many blessings.

I was the luckiest person alive. I got to be with you. It sucks that it’s all ending but I try not to think like that too much.

It’s hard to live like that when you know your days are numbered. I hope you will never know that feeling, Julie.

I’m happy that you’ll be here with me. I’m sorry if I cry, it’s hard for death not to break you.

You think I’d be able to handle it easier considering everything I’ve been through.

When we were younger you’d always make me cheer up. Taking goofy videos while walking through the park, and posting it on social media seconds after. There was always a robin there, it was weird. The park was always bustling with people of all ages. 

Grandparents taking their grandchildren for a little fun. Moms taking their babies for a little stroll. Adults crossing on their way to work. Teens taking their dogs out for a walk.

Everytime you heard a bark you would jump into my arms. We’d go back to your home when your parents were on business trips. They always were, weren’t they?

You’d cuddle in your sheets. Sang me asleep with that beautiful voice of yours. And I’d sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:28.

Soon you’ll be alone, sorry that you’ll have to lose me. I hope you get into that art college of yours.

I have a friend who can get you in. I’ll leave a number later.

- - -

The day after the last entry.

Hi, Julie. I’ve been thinking a lot. After all, what else is there to do? But anyway, I wonder how you’re coping.

Today, some nice nurse got me some flowers.

She said her name was Renée. Pretty name for a pretty girl. She told me things, Julie. It was nice to have someone talk to me without a pitying look on their face.

Mom stopped by yesterday. She broke down in sobs the second she saw me. It’s cruel, Julie.

It’s hard seeing your own Mom cry for you. No one’s mother should attend their child’s funeral. 

She told me you haven’t eaten properly in weeks. Mother said that as soon as she said my name you started crying again. She said that you cried more than my whole family combined.

You shouldn’t care that much Julie. Let it go. I’m leaving the rest of my college fund to you.

I’m sorry it’s not as much as I wanted. It should get you through one semester in through that art school.

A bird stopped at my window today. A robin. It stared at me, and I think it’s the same robin that always watched me at the park.

I let it in.

It didn’t make a noise. It didn’t chirp. It didn’t protest when I put it into my arms.

We stayed like that for a while.

Renée interrupted, visiting me again. The robin flew away.

When I die, I want to be a robin.

- - -

Good morning, Julie. I hope you’re okay. The robin came back today.

Robins are beautiful. They mirror the exact color of blood.

It chirped this time. I was crying, and it perched on top of my head. I must’ve looked like an idiot to the other patients in the room, crying like that.

I think it was fine, though. They let me be.

I want to say I’m sorry. This time for everything.

For taking your cat.

For threatening to kill it if you didn’t close the case.

You didn’t know it was me. You still don’t know that was me.

But now you do.

So you should know I could never kill something. I can’t bear seeing the life leaving another being’s eyes again. It’s not any fun hearing yowls though. Screams on the other hand...

You shouldn’t meddle in my father’s business. I left it alone, so should you.

I close the diary, not knowing what to write. Dad always seemed… off. There was just something wrong.

It didn’t surprise me when I found out he was a sociopath. You know the worst part, though?

Psychopaths are born. But sociopaths…

Well, sociopaths are made.

But what sucked is that I know Mom and I made him into this. He was always mentally unstable, Dad bottled all of that up.

Mom and I shook that Coke, added mentos and watched it explode with pleasure.

I didn’t tell the police anything, because what are they going to do?

I didn’t tell Julie this either. She’s better off with this information nagging at her.

“Hey, Jax!” My ears perk up at Renée’s voice. “You have a visitor. Says he has some unfinished business, or something like that,” Renée frowns at him, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

I feel a smile grow on my face. “You came,” I whisper as the familiar figure comes into view.

“Why wouldn’t I, son?” Dad hugs me from the bed. Mom peeks out from the hallway, an easy smile on her face. “You wouldn’t want to miss family game night would you?”

I grin back and take the switchblade from his palm. I miss the smell of fresh blood. I miss the screams. But most of all, I miss the joy that comes along. “Of course not.”