Dear Diary

Dear Diary: Jacob

Jacob's Point of View: 

My fingers glided over the smooth pages, the writing seemed to stand out against the cream material that rested behind it. I found myself focusing on the words; I couldn't express myself very well, which is why I chose to write my emotions instead. 

My eyes darted around the darkness of my room, my mixed orbs landing upon my baby blue jumper that was positioned a few feet away from me. A cold chill rippled up my spine, forming goosebumps upon my sun-kissed skin as I sat in silence — planning my next steps in my head; I usually did that to ensure my life wasn't one big failure I always feared it to be.

I arose from my chair, colours clouded my vision and I felt a hammering pain radiate through my head. Eventually grasping my jumper, I slid it over my head and found myself growing warmer because of the added heat. 

My gaze became fixated upon a picture: there was a blonde sat in the middle of two other people, smiling as a light blush lightly kissed his cheeks; his blue eyes were like pools as he stared into the camera, emotions flew around inside of those crystal orbs; beside him was a raven girl, whom had homed an expressionless look as the blonde slung his arm around her shoulders; they even had piercing grey eyes and her expression was un-proportional to the emotion that resided in her eyes.

At the other side of the blonde there was a brunette — who I knew rather well — and they had eyes like the ocean, or that's what people said anyway. He never particularly believed them when they gasped over how "beautiful" they were; in all honesty he hated his eyes. His eyes had flashes of the past running through them. 

I would say I still know who he was, but I would be lying. That person died inside a long time ago; something lost can never return.