Don't Open this until your ready, Alexa.
Those seven words were written in sharpie across my sister's leather bound diary, the same one she had gotten at the Renaissance Fair two years before her death. The diary was clamped shut with a golden lock that sparkled in the sun, which was why I had no problem noticing the large book that lay on my wooden desk. Around my neck was a key---the only key that allowed my sister's diary to be opened, the only key that would allow my sister's secrets to be exposed to everyone who wished to read it.
My face suddenly turned pale, and I unclasped the key necklace that was around my neck. I turned it over onto my palm once, and I noticed that my sister's initials were etched into the back---N. L. E.---Noelle Lauren Edwards. My hands started to shake as I coiled the necklace into a spiral and duck taped it to the front cover. I sighed.
“Don't you see, Noelle,” I whispered, almost as if Noelle was actually in the room with me. “I'll never be ready! You committed suicide, and I'm just left here, picking up the pieces you left.” Tears started to fall down my cheeks as I spoke, and I opened my bedroom window. Almost as if in slow motion, I let Noelle's diary fall onto the street below, and I started to cry even harder.
Suddenly, there was a light knock at my bedroom door. “Alexandra?”
It was my mother. I unlocked my door and let her come in. “What did I tell you about locking your door,” my mother asked. “What if something had happened and I wasn't here? What if your sister had needed something?”
“Oh. Where is she?” I had almost expected the seven-year-old to be hiding behind my mother, but she was no where to be found. She sighed. “She's at the Frese's---playing with Sasha. I had forgotten that we're supposed to be at the funeral home at two, so hurry up, OK?”
“Fine,” I said reluctantly, grabbing my coat and putting it on. My mother watched me carefully as I put on my favorite pair of purple converse, and she only moved once to allow me to exit my bedroom.
I walked outside and into the cool, autumn air. The Frese's only lived across the street, but even still I was chilled to the bone by the time I had arrived at their front step. I rang the door bell twice, and to my luck, Julian had answered the door, and not Ms. Frese. In my opinion, his mom was a bit mean and judgmental, and I didn't exactly need to hear what she had to say about Noelle's suicide.
“Hey, Alexa,” Julian said, milk jug in hand.
“Hi.” Julian stood there, waiting expectantly, but I felt as if I could could break any minute, and I didn't want Julian to see that. He suddenly nodded knowingly, and I watched him walk back into the house. He suddenly glanced back at me, probably just realizing that it was cold outside. “You can come in if you want,” he offered. “I think the girls are up stairs---at least, they were when I came back from the Nursery Home this morning.”
I nodded and followed him into the kitchen. About ten grocery bags were set on top of their counter, almost all unpacked. I figured that Julian must have been putting groceries away, because their fridge was set open ajar and almost all of their non-perishables were stacked on top of their counter. Julian hastily put the jug of milk into the fridge and shut it, and then he turned to look at me.
“I'll send her right over, 'kay? Now that I think about, the girls did mention going over to Abigail's, and this is the first time I haven't heard squealing in an hour...” He paused, then continued. “Um, Alexa?”
“Huh,” I asked.
“If you need anything.... Just let me know, OK? If you need talk or something...” I nodded and then watched him go, regretfully. As soon as he had left, I walked over to their rickety kitchen table, and leaned against it. To my surprise, it didn't break, and suddenly something caught my eye. It was a pamphlet.
On it was picture of a little girl sitting in front of a small building. Next to her was whom I assumed to be her little sister; they looked almost exactly alike. Despite the fact that they were wearing torn up jeans and clothing two sizes too big in the heart of winter, they were both smiling and cheerful. Underneath the picture read: THANK YOU FOR DONATING MONEY TO REDWOOD ORPHANAGE! Below that was a small post-it note that was written on in big, loopy handwriting, which I assumed to be written by Julian.
Mom,
Please make ten more copies the next time you stop at the Library. Thanks!
~Julian
I smiled, but it soon faded as soon as I had heard Lexi's loud laughter at the Frese's front step. “Oh my gosh,” she exclaimed. “I can't believe your brother did that! Eww...” She giggled, and two others followed her example. I immediately put the pamphlet back onto the kitchen table, and I waited impatiently for Lexi to enter the Frese's house. “Bye Abby, Sasha! I'll text you later!”
“Hey, loser,” Lexi said as soon as her friends had left. She walked over to where a bowl of potato chips sat, untouched. She then grabbed a bunch and set them into her mouth. I glared at her.
“What,” she asked me. “I'm hungry! The only thing at Abby's house was vegan food, and have you ever tasted that stuff? It's disgusting! Even Abby says so, and she lives there! Her brother's---”
“I don't honestly care, OK? Let's just get home---” I checked my watch. It was 1:55.--- “Mom says that she has some last minute planning to do for the funeral and she wants us there.”
“Whatever,” Lexi said. “But I'm taking this with me---I can't stand listening to anymore 'funeral talk.'” She took out her i pod and began to play it. I rolled my eyes and we made our way home, occasionally stopping to say hi to neighbors. It was exactly two when we had arrived at home.
I usually put two spaces, but it kind of got messes up when I copied aand pasted it!
