She rose from the cushions, slinging her bags of equipment over her shoulder. “Just be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left me alone, huffing and puffing. She didn’t understand. She had no comprehension of what this was like for me.
Nobody did.
I wasn’t going to sit by anymore, letting life run past me while I slept. I wanted to live, and that is what I would do.
I stood from the couch. I needed to change and get washed up but when I entered my bedroom to grab a change of clothes, I immediately halted at the sight of the small, black journal sitting on my desk. It had been left untouched since the night I pulled it from that bag of items Trey collected for me.
I plucked up the book and laid myself out across my mattress, opening to a random page near the end.
Dear Future Husband,
Exciting news, I’m graduating from high school in a few months. It will be nice to get out of here, start anew. I created a facade for myself here at Harbor High that I don’t entirely enjoy. I’m quiet, I’m lonely… I’m like a ghost that just sort of floats around, contributing nothing to the world around it.
Given, I did it to myself, but when we first showed up in San Francisco, I was happy to be a ghost. Just dust that fell through the cracks going unnoticed. With everything that happened before, I was happy to be invisible, but I miss what I used to be.
I miss sports. I miss people. I miss life. I don’t know how I will ever be able to change, though. I think I’m stuck no matter how much I wish that wasn’t true. I think my life is completely altered by the past and there is nothing I can do to change it.
Theatrics and my dramatic, depressing thoughts aside, I did start applying for a few colleges. There aren’t any specific schools I want to attend, or anything I specifically want to learn, but I applied. I was accepted by a few of my chosen. One of them being Liam’s school. Check the back of the book!
Love,
Maybelle Mason
Now seriously disappointed and depressed, I opened to the back of the book to find a few letters. A couple of them were from schools I didn’t recognize, but one I did.
An acceptance letter to SDU—Trey’s school.
Hmm… And the plot thickens.
I turned back to the sad page I just read.
Was I really like that?
Deep down, was I prone to giving up, always and forever, a ghost—alone?
I slammed the book closed. That may have been how the old me functioned, but not now.
I refused to allow it. Forget Annalise and forget just walking. I was going to run. I was going to sprint.
25 Little Mason
Maybelle
I was on my way to college, and I was vibrating with excitement. I was going to be staying somewhere else other than my small room, which made me want to weep with joy.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my space and couldn’t be more thankful for Chelsea and Trey’s generosity in giving it to me—but I needed out.
I finished the book Trey got me on Tuesday and may have shed a tear or two with how darling it was.
Pre-coma me had great taste in literature I learned.
After finishingFlipped, I decided it would remain my favorite book post-coma.
The rest of the week, I had nothing to do except read more of the journal. I started from the beginning, instead of jumping around randomly, and I truly got hooked on my writing and stories.
Judging by the entries at the start of the book I wasn’t always so doom and gloom. I once was happy, hopeful even. I wondered what happened… I guessed I would learn the more I read.
