Love Letters to You [On Hold]

three.

Entry #3
September 30th, 2034

My best friend Dana almost caught me writing about you.

Honestly, I don't know why I call Dana my best friend. We never talk about anything of substance. Most of our conversations are short and we stare at each other in silence the whole time. But we like it that way. We like to believe that a lot can be said when you don't say anything at all.

But maybe we're crazy like that.

When I met Dana, it was during the war. She had been running down the blood filled streets in panic. I can still remember her screams from inside my bedroom. Out of pure curiosity alone, I decided to leave the safety of my house and walked outside - even though my parents warned me against it.

I was greeted with the thick, smoke infested air as soon as I walked out on my porch. Ever heard that term curiosity killed the cat? I had locked myself in my room to protect myself from the war going on outside. When I was actually in the midst of it, I wanted nothing more than to go back inside.

Men dressed head to toe in armor were marching down the street in uniform fashion, lugging heavy guns and other artillery. I heard screams from men and women who were being dragged out of their homes by the military men. They pleaded, screamed and cried, but it didn't do anything for them. In the matter of seconds, they were shot dead.

It scarred me for life, seeing that.

People say back in the old days, we had a democracy where the people had a say in the ruler's decision. That world sounds like a perfect world. If we were a democracy, this would never happen.

Dana's voice was one of the screams. As soon as she saw me she ran towards me, panting heavily. "Help," she said to me. "You have to help me."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

Her dark hair was wet, sticking to the sweat on her forehead and her mascara was running down her colorless cheeks. "Help!" she cried.

"W-with w-what?" I stammered.

"They took my parents!" She was almost out of breath now.

I couldn't imagine what life would be like without my parents. I felt sorry for Dana, I really did. But I couldn't get involved, not if I wanted to live. "I can't," I told her. "I can't." Before she could say anything else, I ran back inside and shut the door behind me.

When the war was over and school started up again, I saw Dana. She looked me in the eye with such disgust, such hatred. I instantly felt bad for not helping her that day, even though there was nothing I could do. Her parents were going to die with or without my help.

I decided to become friends with her, just so I could clear my conscience and she let me. Since then, we've been hanging out on a daily basis.

Which is why I shouldn't have been surprised when she burst into my room yesterday without warning. She didn't call, she didn't text, she didn't anything. Dana just showed up and I wasn't prepared.

I tried to hide my journal underneath my pillow, but she already saw it.

"What you got there?" She asked as she wiggled her brows and made her way towards me.

"N-nothing," I stuttered. There was no way I could tell Dana about you. Maybe she could understand because she had two moms. Maybe she would keep it a secret. But I couldn't take that chance. I couldn't deal with that maybe. "I'm just w-writing that assignment we have for history."

She sat on the edge of my bed, staring at me curiously with her big brown eyes. "Which assignment?"

"On the ISIS thing that happened in 2014," I explained briefly. "Didn't you start yours?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Sure," she agreed, moving closer. "So why are you hiding it under your pillow?"

I didn't know what to say to her. Many thoughts were running through my mind at that moment and I knew it was over. Writing about you was a mistake. "I, uh... Um ... I like a girl."

Dana's eyes widened. "Really? Cal!"

I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. "Yes."

She smiled at me. "That's so cute, Cal. Good for you. Whoever she is, she'll be lucky to be your girlfriend."

I laughed at her comment, partly because I was surprised my lie even worked and partly because I found this situation so ironic.

She didn't bring up the situation after that and I think I was able to dismiss any suspicions, so maybe I can write about you some more. After all, writing my thoughts on paper is the only way I can contain the way I feel about you.

For now, anyway.