Love, Fran

12/02/2004

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe it but I think I’ve finally made a friend. Her name is Abby and she’s perfect. Maybe I’ll invite her to my birthday party.

Love,

Franny

5/03/2004

Dear Diary,

Jimmy came to my party! I was so happy! He was wearing that blue t-shirt that he wore on casual clothes day. He got me a drawing book and these gel pens and I love them! I’m writing in one of them now! It’s called ‘pastel purple’. Abby says she’s going to die dye her hair that colour! Can you believe it! I think her blonde hair is so nice but purple is really cool too. Mum would never let me which sucks.

Love,

Franny

17/08/2005

Dear Diary,

I’m very cross with Abby right now but she doesn’t know it. I want to scream and tell her I hate her I hate her I hate her and she’s a bad friend and she’s really

This gel pen colour is crystal blue. It’s the only one I have left after I let Abby borrow the others. I didn’t want to let her use them because they’re special to me but she’s my best friend so I had to.

I hope things go back to normal soon. It makes me sad and angry when she does stuff like that.

Love,

Franny

2/02/2008

Dear Diary,

I forgot about this book! Wow! I’m excited to write about all the adventures my BFF Abby and I will have this year. I can just feel it, we’re gonna be super popular this year. Next time I write in here I bet I’ll be one of the cool kids- Abby said she was gonna give me a make over. She says Jimmy will definitely notice. I hope she shows me how she braids her hair like she does. It’s so pretty. Mum wasn’t happy about the makeover idea but I don’t care. I’m old enough to do what I want. To make things even better, Abby and I are going on a camping trip with Dad before school starts up again. He’s gonna take us down to the range as long as we don’t tell Mum. She’d probably say it’s too dangerous and not good for someone who has such a temper. But I don’t care. I can’t wait! This is gonna to be the best year ever!

Love,

Franny

Fran

7/08/2008

Dear Diary,

I don’t have much to say and maybe that’s why I keep forgetting to write. I guess I just don’t want to have to admit what’s been happening. Abigail has been spending her time with the football guys. Jimmy included. That’s right. ‘Abigail’. She insists on being called by her full name. Thinks it makes her cooler or something. More sophisticated. Meanwhile I’m still just Fran. Stupid, boring, Fran.

Bye

23/03/2009

Dear Diary,

The strangest thing happened. Abby came by my house. She was in tears. I’ve never seen her cry before. She wouldn’t tell me what happened, just that she wanted to be my friend again and that she was sorry and she loved me the most. Can you believe that? What was I supposed to say? So I hugged her, told her I loved her too and that of course, we could be friends again.

I hope everything can go back to normal now. The last few months have been a blur, and that is not to indicate that the months passed quickly. Time has been drudging along slower than I knew possible. There are some days when I sit in class alone and watch Jimmy and Abigail and Terrence and all the other ‘besties’ Abby had cut out for herself laughing at their stupid inside jokes. They must have been thinking they were so clever. I could feel my heart pounding slowly as I watched, the thud echoing in my ears. It was like I was not even there half the time. Even now, looking over at Abby, asleep in my bed, it doesn’t feel real. This is my room. This is my home. But I don’t feel like I’m here.

Yours confused and hopeful,

Fran.

9/04/2010

Dear Diary,

I think I’m in love. I don’t know what to do, I’m so scared and excited I can’t breathe- but mostly scared. I feel like I’m five again and I’m in the deep end of the wave pool, overcome with adrenaline and excitement but also fear, like I know at any moment I could go under. Maybe that’s part of where the fun lies.

I keep watching people holding hands and I can’t help but think it’s just so impossible. I don’t know if I should say anything. Maybe I won’t say anything.

Peace,

Fran

30/11/2010

Dear Diary,

I’m sick. Absolutely rotten with rage. I know I shouldn’t be this hateful but I can’t help it. Abigail is going out on a date with Jimmy. I just can’t make myself believe it even though I’ve been watching it happen in front of me for the longest time.

This changes everything.

Fran.

12/05/2011

Dear Diary,

I feel like a kitchen sink that’s been slowly filling with water. If you put any dishes in the water to wash, the water will overflow. A sopping mess of soap and suds and shit.  

I don’t know how much longer I can swallow my words. Seeing them together is too much. I don’t think I have a choice anymore- I have to tell her. I can feel my confession balancing upon my tongue like a pill I can’t stomach. It’s burning a hole through my lips.

Fran

3/09/2011

Dear Diary,

I was walking downstairs and I heard her telling Jim. He thought it was hilarious. God, I’m so furious. I’m so angry with her. I thought she was supposed to be my friend. I can feel my blood boiling. I’m so humiliated. Why would she want to hurt me like that? I just can’t believe her. After everything I’ve done for her. I never would have betrayed her like that. She must think everything about me is just one messy, stupid, boring joke. What a bitch I can’t believe her. I hate her

I’m sorry I didn’t mean that

I think I need to go for a walk and clear my head. Dad’s meant to be talking us to the range tomorrow so at least I’ll be able to blow off some steam then.

Yours angrily,

Fran

4/09/2011

Dear Diary,

Everything’s spinning out of control. I just keep thinking of how I used to be scared of going through the car wash as a kid. When we’d be submerged in the suds and the car would be enveloped in the strange bubble that might as well have been an alternate universe. The water would cascade down with such force and I’d lose my breath and panic as the world outside was taken away.

That’s what this feels like now.

I’ve really put my foot in it this time.

Fran

15/09/2011

Dear Diary,

Everything hurts. I can’t seem to get out of bed. I’ve just been so angry for so long and now it seems to have faded. I feel like my hatred is a rubber band and finally…it snapped. I don’t know what I want to do anymore. I haven’t been outside in days, I just keep missing school. It’s funny in a way. Before all of this, if I would miss school Mum would be pissed about it. Well, she was at first. Or at least I think that’s how she copes with things. Mum and I both have the fiery red anger gene. Mum’s not angry anymore. She’s worried.

None of that stuff matters anymore anyway. I’m done.

Jimmy hasn’t messaged once.

Fran

OCTOBER NOVEMBER? 2012

Dear Diary,

It’s been 371 days since I last saw Abigail. I speak to her all the time though. She doesn’t always reply. It’s never stopped me from talking to her though. Sometimes I think she’ll pick up the phone and call I hate being so far apart-

I’m being called for dinner. Have to go.

Yours always,

Francesca

JUNE 2014

Dear Diary,

Jimmy came to visit me today.

I’ve never seen him look so serious. His eyes seemed heavy, like anchors weighing down what was once a cheeky, toothy grin. He kept squeezing his paper Mache fists into scrunched up balls and for long moments his mouth were the shoe laces on firm boots, pulled tight and pinched.

He just kept staring at me like I was a stranger. Maybe he wished I was. A stranger that had never had anything to do with him, or, more importantly, her.

He says he just doesn’t understand what happened to us. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight or the fact that many of the meals here could be consumed with a straw but I’m not in the best place to answer questions. I’ve answered more than enough for a lifetime. Well, exactly enough for a lifetime it seems.

I didn’t know what to say. I’m confused too.

He doesn’t understand what happened to ‘us’? He means her. He doesn’t understand what happened to her. He thought we were friends. We might have come from the same place but we lived worlds apart now.

I don’t understand it either. I don’t understand why he asks questions he already knows the answer to. He saw the look of blame on Dad’s face when he heard me explain how, when it happened. We could all feel Mum’s shame dripping off of her.

No, Jimmy doesn’t want to know ‘what’, he wants to know ‘how’. I was asked that a lot before I was sent here. No one really questions motives in here though.

Jimmy looked like he wanted to reach out but was conflicted. I wonder who he blames more. I’m not sure I would have reached back even if I could.

Jimmy and I stopped talking after that. We ran out of time.

I expect he’ll be back for closure.

If only it could be that easy for me. Jimmy had time to find another love, another young and dumb girl scared enough of her own expiry date to force herself to love him. He’d find someone who’d wrap themselves around his finger, blissful in their ignorance of his hand on the trigger. He had time to forge a name, a life for himself.

I only have time.

Yours always and always and always,

Francesca

AUGUST 2014

Dear Diary,

I speak to Abigail less now. Some days she’s gone completely.

I often find my mind wandering to the good days. To her good days when she was just herself and just being with her made me feel stronger. Noticed. Like I was a part of something wicked and amazing, just the two of us. Like I’d never need anything else. Maybe I should have told her then. Before she became obsessed with finding someone, anyone else who could bring themselves to love her.

I just keep picturing her and me, out on that camping trip with Dad. We went star gazing one night. Abby insisted we sneak away to the lake and I remember being struck with fear, of drowning, of floating away.

Underneath the vast sky, swollen with stars, she told me a secret. The air was electric, my fear changed to adrenaline and I felt alive.

She told me she was scared of growing up and I told her I was scared of being alone. Little did I know that with her, I already was. I wonder if she would remember. Either way, as sick as it is, I guess we both got our just desserts.

I wonder if she was ever honest with Jimmy. Maybe all her words were honey, sweet and slowly poured from her curled maple flavoured lips to keep him interested. I wonder if she was ever as honest with Jimmy as I was with her. I don’t think it’s something she’d notice.

I doubt she’d even care.

Yours always and forever,

Francesca