-Sophia-
I found it under the bed.
Below the teddy bear and above the old board game.
The book didn't look dusty which means that it was recently used. I can't believe that nobody found it. Or maybe they just didn't look close enough to find it.
I took it out from under the bed and opened up the brown, leather notebook.
It had her name written on it.
Elise's Journal.
This was the only place left to see. The only place left to look. All other roads led to a dead end. We all tried walking them, but eventually, our feet started to ache. This was the last road. The final road.
I saw a word. I could recognize the handwriting immediately. It was hers. The 'i's were rounded and so were the n's.
This was it. The final try.
Until it was officially gone.
YOU ARE READING
Weak
Short Story"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, But the silence of our friends." ~Martin Luther King Jr. There was nothing I could do. There was nothing we could do. It wasn't our fault. Or was it, really? ...
