The Boy Who Died

0.1

When Collin died, I was certain that life wasn't for me anymore. I mean, when the boy you love, die, who wouldn't lose hope.

Collin was the only one I've ever loved. Maybe the only one I ever will love too.

I wasn't going to go to the funeral. It hurt to much even to think about sitting and a room filled with people, not knowing if they actually cared about him at all.

But I went. Mum physically dragged me out of bed, and some how I ended up in the church. On the back row.

People were crying, talking about what a shame it was that they lost such a beautiful human. His mother had the nerve to tell me I wasn't good enough, and that I never loved him.

"You cry when you lose someone you love. And you obviously didn't love my son since you haven't cried a tear since he died" she screamed at me.

And I snapped.

"I loved Collin more than myself. We became friends in 3rd grade. I was alone and some of the more accepted kids were teasing me. Collin was one of them, but he told them to stop. From that day, we hung out all the time. He never wanted me to meet his family, I never knew why. But one night, in 8th grade. He called me, crying. Because his father had lit his guitar on fire. I hurried over there only to find him in an empty house, crying by the stove where the ashes of his guitar were. That night, I decided that his parents weren't worth knowing. I'm sitting here, unable to cry. Because I'm too sad. It hurts thinking that I have to live without him. My head hurts too, just looking at you all. If you loved Collin, you would've helped him. Supported him and protected him. He should've gone to his mother when he wanted to die. Not his girlfriend who had the same problem. Don't talk about love. The only think you'll ever love is yourself."

I had shouted. When I ran out of words, I just stood there. Listening to my own heavy breathing.

I then ran. Out of the church, away from those people. And I ended up close to the beach. On the roof. Collin and I's favorite spot. We used to meet there whenever one of us had a bad night. Which was almost every night.

Suddenly, a girl walked up to where I was sitting and sat down next to me. 

"Collin said you'd be here" the girl said. It was Collin's sister.

"He told me you were dead." That was the first thing I said to her.

"Collin hated me for leaving town. I had to get away, I thought he would survive long enough for me to come get him." She answered. Apparently Celine left town four years ago. Collin told me she died.

"He sent me this. The day it happened. He told me to give it to you." Celine said, placing a brown leather journal in my lap. She then stood up and walked away.

The journal looked thick, the pages rough and filled with letters. There was a small leather string that nearly kept the book closed. Carefully, I unwrapped the string and let the journal fall open.

Dear Amanda
If you're reading this, I assume I'm no longer here. I'm sorry it turned out like this. But God had a plan for me, and my time alive was over. (I know you don't believe in God, you know I do) Just know that I love you. And I don't want you to come to me. As much as I would love for you to join me wherever I am. I want you to live your dream. Fall in love again, grow up. Stay in school, or drop out. (Whatever will make you the happiest) Get a job and travel. Find yourself. Don't let the demons in your head win.
I love you. Don't forget that.
If it ever gets hard. Just read this. It's my story. I wanted you to have it, you've been asking to see what I've been writing in this book for years. Now you can. Because the time is right.
I love you Amanda.
Love, Collin

That was when I realized that it was the journal. The journal he ha been writing for years. He never went any where without it. He would look at me when I was painting, and write in the book. I must of asked to see what he wrote more than a thousand times, he always told me that I will when the time is right.
I guess he though the time was right when his was out.
After all. He is the boy who died.