✓ | 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀, j. hale [2]

IV. The Journal

Evelyn's eyes narrowed as she glared down at the worn leather journal staring up at her from her desk. The cover was a pale brown, the soft leather engraved with designs of leaves and flowers, the edges peeling from its age. Marie said it had been hers in high school, but she had never gotten the chance to use it.

It seemed to taunt her, to challenge her, as if it already knew that she would never work up the courage to open it and begin to write. Stupid thing. The barrage of raindrops currently hitting her bedroom window only made her more anxious, and the gray blanket of clouds in the November sky seemed to be caving in on her as she struggled through the debate between her heart and her head.

Her head was telling her that this innocent little notebook would eventually help bring her peace, and perhaps closure, if she kept up with it long enough. At least, that's what Marie's therapist friend Linda had told her when she recommended that she give Evelyn a journal to work through her feelings since she refused to talk about him with anyone.

"I'm fine, Marie. I don't need to write in a silly little diary everyday to 'feel better.' I've been fine without it for two months now," she had told her aunt that morning when she came downstairs to find the journal on the table before school.

Marie had sighed, taking her hands as she pleaded with her niece. "Ev, I know you say you're okay, which I guess on the outside it looks like you are. You still do everything and talk to everyone the way you did before but something is just... different. It's like you're empty, and the shell of you is still here with me, but my Evvy is gone and I just want her to come back."

When Evelyn had not answered, Marie continued. "I know you well enough to know that you're trying your best to show everyone that you're perfectly fine but I also know that Jasper hurt you." Evelyn had visibly stiffened at the sound of his name, but still her aunt persisted. "Linda says that this could really help you finally process what happened. At least give it a try, honey. I want to say to do it for me and your friends, but it's more important that you do it for yourself. It's time to move on, sweetheart."

Evelyn had snapped again that she was fine, and left for school that morning irrationally angry at her aunt for trying to fix something that wasn't hers to fix. But the more time she had to think about it, the more she realized that the façade she so stubbornly refused to drop did not fool anyone the way she thought it did. She had spent the last few months constructing what she believed to be an elaborate mask to hide all of the pain that was underneath; she was tired of feeling weak, tired of being pitied, and for once in her life all she wanted was to be strong. So she shoved all of the hurt and broken pieces of her heart deep down inside her, hoping that one day she would simply forget and move on.

She had thrown herself into anything and everything she could, desperate to escape the memories of Jasper that haunted her in the moments of quiet stillness. She decided to play basketball, and spent a majority of her time working out in the gym to physical exhaustion so that when she slept, she was too tired to dream of him. She worked extra shifts at Marie's diner, nagged Jessica and Angela to go out, and stayed up late to finish her schoolwork for the day. As a result, she now had permanent dark circles under her eyes and a ghostly pale complexion that never seemed to go away. She was tired, and everyone around her knew it.

But still she sometimes found herself alone in her room in the darkness of night, and that's where the memories of him would be waiting for her. She would lie awake with the cold winter air slipping through the walls and slithering through the cracks in her mask, and think of all the beautifully tragic memories she now was forced to bear. Every kiss, every touch, every laugh played through her mind on repeat, and she could only wonder where she went wrong... where was her misstep? Where was the stepping stone where everything had fallen apart? Everything had seemed so perfect, and still he had left. Still, he was not here.