Opening up to the page where I’d stopped at, my eyes skimmed slowly over the contents of the neatly written handwriting, words sinking into my mind.
Diaries are really not my kind of thing. But the day I saw this in the stationery store, more than five years ago, this particular book seemed to call out to me. And I bought it on impulse. I’d actually never used it throughout the course of the next years. The beauty of the book felt like it should be maintained until a just cause would come around, one good enough for me to start writing in this.
And it did. That’s how I find myself here right now, under the dim light of my desk-lamp, scribbling away on this page. Tomorrow’s the last day of school. And I though today would be a good day to start on recollecting the memories of the past year.
At first, I thought my life was over when I moved to Illinois. Everything seemed to come crashing down on me all at the same time: family, a new life, another move. Having to adapt once more and create a new identity in this alien world not only scared me but left me feeling shaken to the very core. And I thought things would be horrible…
But everything seemed to change when I met this one girl in particular.
She was different. And so beautifully unique. I admired her for her strength. I aspired to be like her. And she’s the reason why I’m writing in this book: the book I could never find a use for because of its utter perfection. And now I have.
Her name was Rachelle.