The Stories Her Diary Would Hold

I remember her green eyes, how they use to shine. I could never forget her, I sometimes wonder if she remembers me, like if there is a heaven or something would she look down on me, she was always angelic in my eyes. Even in her upsetting moments.

So many people treated her like fucking dirt, that made her have cracks, it kept happening but it didn't break her. No what broke her was her sister's death. I told her to stay strong, she said she'd try. Sometimes I think I'm forgetting her smile, since I haven't seen it for a long time.

I clearly remember the text she sent me.

I'm so sorry Frank, ilysm but I can't do this anymore. good bye.
-Joy. <3

I remember my heart stopping and the only thing on my mind is to get to her house, to save her. People always say, "oh fuck I'm late." As in they are late to a meeting or some shit, none of them ever say that whilst falling to their knees with blood on their hands, tears in their eyes and holding their best friends lifeless hand.

She died with her eyes open, her green eyes once full of life, looked like cold pools of green water. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't know how to stop. Her parents were on an important business trip, so she was alone for most of the time.

~~~~~~~~|

"Frank?" The priest asks, "would you care to say a few words?" I blink back tears an nod. Slowly I make my way to where Joy's coffin is. Her lifeless body lay inside, her eyes have been closed. Her black hair brushed and her fringe clipped back, red lips and a smokey eye style of makeup. She is wearing a dark blue dress with lace from the bodice down.

"Joy McClean is my bestest friend in the whole world. I know more about her than her parents do." I say in present tense, if I refer to her in past that means it's real. "I know that her favourite band is The Dresden Dolls, her guilty pleasure is writing poems about the goodness of life, even if she doesn't. see any herself. Her eyes light up when you talk to her about weddings, how when she dies she wants her eyes to be open, her fringe curved so it looks like a pin-up girl, she wants to wear a black tutu, her denim vest with all the badges and patches on it and her favourite slipknot t-shirt. No shoes." I say with a small smile.

Her parents look at me with a stern look, I know she would have smiled at me for remembering it all but she would of punched me in the arm for telling everyone that she writes poetry in secret.

"Joy is an angel in my eyes and I know she will be rocking out in heaven." I finish and go back to my seat.

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