Chapter 7: Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE DIARY

D4

DANIEL

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Isabel asks as we pull up to Anna’s house, or more appropriately, what was once Anna’s house. “You don’t really have to go, you know. Some people prefer not to go to wakes, and I think that’s okay. I’m sure Anna would understand that it’s too hard for you.”

She puts her hand over mine and I swiftly pull it away. “Don’t pretend like you knew Anna so well. You weren’t friends,” I reply coldly.

Isabel has barely left my side since Anna died and today, she insisted on coming to the wake with me. I don’t know why she even bothers. I haven’t exactly been kind to her lately.

I know that she means well, but I can’t help feeling annoyed with her most of the time and I end up snapping at her. She is just always around, never leaving me alone with my thoughts. Though maybe that isn’t the worst thing. My thoughts can get pretty dark lately.

I look over at her now and the sad look on her face makes me feel bad about the way I’ve been treating her. I may have lost my girlfriend, but she has also lost a classmate. As far as I know, this is the first time Isabel has experienced a death of any kind and I feel a pang of guilt as I realize that maybe her clinginess to me is her own way of dealing with it.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh as I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Losing Anna in the first place was too hard for me, this,” I gesture towards the house with my hand, “is not as bad in comparison. It’s still very hard but I can do it. Your company definitely helps. Thanks for being a good friend through all of this, Isabel.”

Isabel smiles brightly, her mood turning around, “You really don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy knowing you’re okay.”

My mouth twitches in what must be the worst attempt at a smile ever and I start getting out of the car. Am I really okay? I’m not so convinced that I am. Sure, I am walking, talking and breathing, but I don’t actually feel anything close to okay at all. I pause and stare up at the same house I waited hours outside of on our anniversary. It looks exactly the same, except now there are dozens of cars parked outside. Visitors coming to view Anna’s body.

Isabel joins me at my side, and we walk together towards the door. I can’t believe that this is the circumstance upon which I am entering Anna’s home for the first time. I always imagined that when the time came for Anna to finally invite me over, I’d show up to the door, shake hands with her father and we’d all have a nice chat over dinner before I’d take her out on a date. It’s crazy how different life can turn out from how you planned it. I expected this would be a beautiful moment in our relationship, instead it’s a sad and twisted one; the final chapter in the tragic book of us.

The second we step foot in the house, everyone stares at me as if I’m an alien from another planet. The dead girl’s boyfriend. That’s what I’ll always be from now on, I guess. A few of the stares turn into whispers and I take that as my cue to leave the room and go see Anna. Isabel moves to follow me, but I stop her.

“Please don’t. I really need to do this part on my own.”

“Oh. All right. Well, I’m right here if you need me, Dan,” she throws me a half smile and then turns towards of a group of her friends who are no doubt waiting to hear the gossip about how I’ve been holding up.

I enter the viewing room and my heart starts beating fast when I see the casket laying up ahead. Anna.

As I walk towards her resting body, I can’t help but notice that there are barely any photographs of Anna on display, as is the norm at most wakes. All I can see is a modest little table on the right of her casket that contains a vase of flowers, a single lit candle and a framed picture of her school portrait from last year, no larger than the frame I have at my bedside table. I’m a bit taken aback by this, as Anna always spoke so lovingly of her wonderful father who spoils her silly and often takes her on vacations to luxury destinations during the summer. I would expect a little more from someone who spoils their daughter so much, but perhaps I shouldn’t judge, although I think that Anna deserves so much more.

Kneeling by the casket in prayer is a man I can only assume is her father. He has similar facial features to Anna and the same hair color. It’s a strange feeling, seeing pieces of your dead loved ones in their living relatives. Anna’s father finishes his prayer and stands up. I approach him hesitantly.

“Mr. Abramovic?” I ask. He turns and looks at me, a hint of surprise on his otherwise mournful face.

“Yes?” He replied.

“I’m Daniel, Anna’s…” I pause. Anna never told him about our relationship and I wonder if this is the right time to tell him about it. I quickly decide that it is not.

“We were very close,” I mumble. I take a sympathy card out of my coat pocket and hand it to him. “My condolences for your loss, sir.”

He peers at the card which says something expressing sympathy on the loss of a daughter in big, cursive letters, then looks up at me, handing it back.

“Oh, you think I’m Anna’s father,” he says.

“You’re not?” I asked, puzzled.

“No, I’m Anna’s uncle. Her father couldn’t make it, unfortunately. He’s paying his respects privately, from home.”

What? From home? I thought this was his home.

Anna’s uncle continues, “If you’d like to speak to Anna’s mother instead, she’s just over there.” He nods towards a stern looking woman who is just off the other room speaking with some guests.

“Thank you,” I said. It was all I could say. I was in complete shock. Anna’s uncle nods at me and walks away.

Anna never mentioned a mother to me. I knew she must have one, but I imagined her long gone and out of the picture. I never asked about it because I didn’t want to cause any upset if this was a sensitive subject for her. I figured she would tell me about it when she felt like it. She spoke of her father all the time. Of the wonderful man who was a little bit strict but loved her very much. I never imagined that she lived alone with the mother that she never once mentioned.

I look down at Anna laying in her casket and my feeling of shock intensified because the girl I am looking at is not Anna. Well, it is, but it barely looks like her. Anna never styled her hair or wore her makeup that way, and she is wearing a maroon dress. Anna hated maroon! Or did she? What if my perception of Anna was way off and I never actually knew the girl I loved as well as I thought I did? Suddenly, I am feeling like I can’t breathe, and I rush out of the viewing room and up the stairs, just because it is the first path that I see without people crowded in it. I’m not sure I’m allowed on the second floor, but I don’t think anyone has spotted me. There’s no one around except a guy about my age with his back to me too busy smuggling food into his bag to notice me.

I creep up the stairs and head directly to Anna’s bedroom, as if I’d been here a million times to know which one it is. Her mother seems to have left the room the way Anna left it because it’s not perfectly tidied up. My heart swells with emotion seeing all of her things. The posters of her favorite bands up on her walls, her favorite books and movies on a shelf and the teddy bear I once gave to her resting against the pillow on her bed. I pick it up and smile tearfully. This is more the Anna that I knew, not that stranger lying dead downstairs.

Overcome with emotion, I sit on the bed and start crying into the teddy bear. Wakes are supposed to provide some closure, but I am just left with so many more questions. Why did Anna dump me on the night she passed? Why did she mislead me about her parents? Was her mother just so controlling with her to the point of cruelty? She’s having Anna buried for eternity in an outfit Anna wouldn’t have ever left the house in. If that isn’t some weird power move, I don’t know what is.

I hug the teddy bear close to my chest and lay back on the bed, resting my head against the pillow, which I notice still has a few strands of her hair on it. I just want to feel close to her. I want to breathe in her scent. I miss her so much.

As I cry into the pillow, I suddenly feel something hard inside of it. I reach into the pillowcase and pull out a notebook. Anna’s diary. I know I shouldn’t read it, but I am desperate for answers. I flip to the last entry and my heart stops.

Tomorrow night is my big anniversary date with Daniel. I am so excited. I can’t believe we have been together for an entire year already. Time flies, doesn’t it? I love him so much. I really feel like he is the one. That is why I have decided to give him something very special for the occasion: my virginity. I know this is a big deal, but it doesn’t really feel like a big deal. Does that make sense? I just feel so sure about us. When you know you’re going to be with someone forever, big moments like these are a lot less scary. At least that is how I feel. I want him to be my first and my last.

The old bat will kill me if she ever finds out, but who cares what she thinks. She is probably just jealous that no man would ever touch her since she is such a psycho. HAHA! My poor dad was too kind to boldly go where no man had ever gone before, but at least he got me out of it, right? She is such a loser. I can’t wait until I graduate and move out of here and away from her forever. Maybe Daniel and I could get our own place and live together. That would be so perfect. <3

I sit there and stare at these words in shock. The old bat will kill me if she ever finds out sticks out like a sore thumb. What’s more is that Anna wrote this the night before she broke up with me, but nothing in here suggests that she wanted to end things. She was talking about our plans! About being together forever, moving in together someday, losing her virginity to me…

What happened that night? Did Anna’s mother read this and find out? Did she do something to hurt her? The thought makes me so sick that I have to fight the urge to run out and find a bathroom. I flip back a few pages to the middle of another entry and what I see next horrifies me.

I should torment her the way she torments me. The way that she takes everything away from me. The way she alienates me from my own father. If it weren’t for her, my life would be so much better, but she is just keen on ruining everything for me, isn’t she?

I swallow hard, feeling a lump in my throat. Torment? Alienation? Was Anna living in an abusive home without me even knowing about it? Another entry catches my eye as I flip through the pages.

God, I hate her. If only I could see her face when she opens those anonymous messages (LOL!!) When she sees those grotesque images of mutilated, tortured bodies. It’s a visual representation of the pain her entire existence makes me feel and I don’t feel bad about sending them. She deserves to have those images burned into her brain. She ruins my life every single day, now it’s time that I ruin hers.

Anna must have been in so much pain to write these things about her own mother. This is too much for me to take in right now. I shove the journal back where I found it and quickly head back downstairs, avoiding looking at Anna’s mother, who is still talking with guests in the den. She isn’t even crying. If I didn’t know she was her mother, I would think she is just another guest, someone who knew Anna casually. It’s too much to bear.

I rush past my classmates and out the door. Isabel leaves her group of friends and runs after me.

“Dan!” she screams.

I ignore her and sprint to my car. I have to get out of here.

“Dan, wait! What happened?”

I know I’m her ride home, but right now I don’t care. She can have one of her stupid friends drop her off. I need to be alone. I need to get away from this house and that monster of a woman that Anna was doomed to call her mother. Isabel continues to scream my name as I start the engine and speed away from the house without her.

I drive aimlessly, recklessly, without any idea of where exactly I’m going. My mind is not on the road, it’s on Anna and her pain. Where was I this whole time that she has been suffering at home? Was I just so selfish, caught up in my world of basketball to notice she was going through so much? I hate myself so much right now. If I had been there for her, if I’d just opened my eyes, I might have been able to help her. I might have been able to stop what happened to her and she might still be here with me right now.

My vision is blurred through the tears and I can’t even see where I’m going but I don’t really care. Maybe I deserve to die. I’ve been so selfish in life, maybe I can meet with Anna in death and make it up to her. Dedicate the rest of eternity to her in whatever place it is that we go after we die. I see an 18-wheeler truck approaching up ahead and I make a rash decision to go for it headfirst.

The driver of the truck blares the horn and my vision becomes blinded by the headlights. I hold my breath and prepare for the collision, ready for the pain. Then it happens: my steering wheel seems to take on a life of its own and steers me back into my own lane, swerving sharply and knocking a few things around in my car. My heart races with shock and adrenaline as I try to register what just happened. The driver of the truck honks his horn angrily and flips me off as he passes by, screaming obscenities at me that I cannot hear through my closed window.

I pull off to the side of the road and take a few moments to breathe and calm myself down. What the hell just happened? I was prepared to die! I wanted to die. I know I didn’t steer myself back to safety. I know that in my heart. Then I see it laying across my lap: the seashell Anna once gave me.

It was during one of our first dates. We were at the beach and she found the prettiest seashell that was shaped like a heart. She wrote our initials on it and hung it on a necklace and gave it to me saying that whenever I had it with me, her heart would always be with me as well. I’ve kept it hanging on my rearview mirror ever since.

As I stare at it laying on my lap, I understand in an instant what happened with my steering wheel. It was Anna. She is in here with me and she just saved my life.